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#i was so excited when i heard he got cast in it and i will never forgive them for what they've done with it
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⭐️ (ask game)
Hey! :)
Okay, I wanna talk about Wheeljack and his idea of “home”—something I’ve touched upon from time to time in various Asks, but also “What Do You See?”, “Settling”, and “Bridges.”
See, Wheeljack never really got to have an arc in TFP where Earth or one of the bases officially had become his home. Even Ultra Magnus got to have his whole post-dismemberment “we are a family” moment, but Wheeljack was restless.
He didn’t stay on Earth in Season 1, he traveled the world in Season 2 but was more of an on-call ally, and he was stranded in Season 3 following the destruction of the Jackhammer. He never had an actual say in the matter, and his drained introvert battery discomfort was a large part of the friction he had with his fellow ‘Bots.
Wheeljack’s ship was the only true home he had in TFP, and he lost it. Gaining access to the Iron Will represented a return to his comfort zone, as Wheeljack eagerly left a restored Cybertron to fly TFP Optimus around the galaxy.
Wheeljack never stays, not for lack of loyalty or even because he’s just a reckless adventurer. It’s because he doesn’t know how to.
In “Settling”, I give our earliest look into why this is; Wheeljack’s first home was taken from him after the loss of his caregivers. He was born into a low caste on a cold, unforgiving Cybertron that cast him aside like he was worth nothing—and he survived in spite of it, struggling.
I imply in many Asks that Wheeljack never had a stable home again in his childhood, that he was moving from place to place and doing whatever he had to do to get by. Eventually, he attended school and gained a more stable life following his employment at Kimia—but, as shown in “The Wrecker”, that didn’t last forever.
Once he left the ruins of Kimia, Wheeljack was on his own until he found the Wreckers—who were a combat unit, nomadic, moving from place to place in order to complete their missions and remain as undetected as possible. The unit would become his family, his home without walls, but he eventually walked away due to centuries’ worth of built-up stress and frustration.
Following the Exodus, the Jackhammer became Wheeljack’s home. Unlike Ultra Magnus, our poor Wrecker in white never speaks of finding anyone between Cybertron and Earth—and finding just Bulkhead again excites Wheeljack, gives him the hope that more may have lived.
Despite the prominent bond with TFP Bulkhead and Miko that plays a lot into his character and arcs, Wheeljack is probably one of the loneliest characters in TFP—alongside Optimus and Ultra Magnus (who are isolated by their position and more-stoic personalities), Starscream (who goes rogue), and Knockout after Breakdown’s death. Combine this with his personality, notably his high energy and strong loyalty, and it explains a lot of Wheeljack’s misery—something that TFP Optimus commented on in “Loose Cannons”, as he could tell Wheeljack was unhappy despite his “alone is a lot less complicated”.
Wheeljack just doesn’t know how to settle down and let people in anymore, doesn’t know how to make a place into his home. He can’t stay forever because he doesn’t know how, but he’ll always come back because he doesn’t want to be alone. That’s one of my favorite parts of his growth in my TFP Wheeljack in TFA series, as he goes from being too awkward to ask for a place to sit to having a room decorated by his new team and then to finally articulating in a conversation with TFA Bulkhead that—while he can’t reconcile with making a place his home—he’s decided that his home is the people who love him.
That does create a bit of a panic in him, as he’s heard the “never stays” line so much that it’s become something he’s internalized. He feels guilt because, while he didn’t mean to go, he left his TFP family again—and he’s afraid that he will let the TFA Crew down the same way. And he just really doesn’t want to lose his home, now that he’s finally found and accepted it.
That’s gonna be interesting to explore when he finally cracks the multiverse open.
Good luck, Wheeljack. 😈
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lovelydrusilla · 2 years
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can someone please make a compilation of all henry golding scenes in persuasion so i can satisfy my need to see him in period clothes without actually having to suffer through the dumpster fire that is this adaption
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SHIROU SHIROU SHIROU
okay look. am i just super excited to meet shirou because his voice actor is ben diskin... perhaps... but like. bEN DISKIN !!!
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writtenfangirl · 10 days
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Hungry For You
Another TikTok trend has sparked an idea in me.
Another (short) Charles Leclerc Fanfic
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Y/N spooned the food carefully on to the two plates, casting the hidden camera a wide grin as she did so. While the plates were similar in size, one had a significantly larger portion. The grilled chicken on one of the plates was practically the size of her palm, the pesto pasta still steaming as she dumped it on the plate. On her own plate, she placed barely a handful of food, the chicken cut into three small strips and the pasta’s serving size so tiny, not even a small cat would feel full.
“Babe, it’s time to eat!” Y/N called out as she shot her phone another wink. She’s placed the devise inside one of the cups of utensils, hidden away from Charles’ keen eyes. The camera had a full view of the kitchen island, where she and Charles frequently ate their meals when they were alone.
She heard his footsteps bounding towards the kitchen, the door to his gaming room slamming shut behind him.
“I am starving and it smells delicious.” He practically beamed at her as he took his place on the kitchen isle, oblivious to the camera that was filming his every move. “I don’t know how you manage to impress me with your cooking every time, cherie.”
“You haven’t even tasted it yet.”
“It’s pesto. I already know I’ll love it.”
Pesto pasta was one of his favorite dishes and with the aromatic smells of the basil and garlic hanging in the air, Y/N had no doubts about his statement.
She circled around the isle taking her seat next to Charles, placing the plate with the larger portions in front of him and the smaller sized portion in front of her. But Charles paid the food no heed.
He grinned up at her, placing a kiss on her cheek. “Thank you for cooking for us, cherie.”
He did this every time she cooked. Thanked her for her efforts and grinned up at her like she hung the moon and starts. And every single time, without fail, her heart skipped a beat at the sight of that smile.
She handed him his utensils, his food finally snagging his attention before his eyes wandered to her plate. He frowned at the sight of it. “Why is your food so little?”
“What do you mean?” She asked innocently as she took the pitcher of water she had set and carefully filling their glass.
“Your food, it is so little.”
“Yeah, this was all we had,” she shrugged. “I forgot to stop by the grocery store this week and this was the last of the chicken and the pasta.” She took her utensils, getting ready to dig in when all of a sudden her plate disappeared. 
“Charles? What are you doing?” Bewildered she watched as her boyfriend dumped the contents of her plate on to his already full one.
“Eat,” he said as he pushed the fully loaded plate in front of her. There was no annoyance in his eyes, no hint of his previous hunger as he looked at her in earnest, waiting for her to dig in.
“Babe, I’m not even really that hungry,” she protested. “Come on, you need to eat.”
“I’m not hungry either,” he shrugged.
Liar. He’d been complaining the whole time she was cooking about how hungry and excited he was to eat. He always got that way after a training session and he’d been training since 9AM. Whatever lunch Charles ate during a training day was usually only enough to get him going and by the time he found his way home, he was always positively starving. And Y/N knew today was no exception.
“Just five minutes ago you said you were starving,” she deadpanned.
“You spent two hours on your feet, cooking. I know how tiring that is. I really am not hungry.”
She rolled her eyes, even as love bloomed at her chest. “You came from training.”
He waved off her concerns. “I promise, I am not hungry. And tomorrow, I will go to the grocery, buy our stuff and cook you a meal.”
It was a true miracle that Y/N didn’t grab her boyfriend right then and there and drag him to the bedroom. How she managed to snag a boyfriend so thoughtful and so selfless was beyond her. “You’re sure you’re not hungry?”
He grinned at her, his voice going deep and husky as his eyes darkened. “I’m hungry for you.” He gave her what he probably thought was sultry wink but that only served to have Y/N howling in laughter.
There was no denying how in love she was with her boyfriend but she had always been immune to his attempts at flirting. His charms would no doubt have worked on other girls but Y/N only found them cute. 
She was shaking her head as she took the other plate and dumped half of the food onto it. She ignored his protesting as she pushed the other plate towards him. She had given him the bigger chunk of chicken and the bigger half of the pasta but the piles of food were still more or less equal to each other. She doubted he even noticed the slight difference, especially since she pushed the other plate far away from him. “If we’re still hungry at the end of the meal, we can go to the cafe down the street.” 
He raised a brow at her, a smirk pulling at his lips. His face was barely an inch away from her, his green eyes practically glittering as he spoke. “Is that your move, cherie? Starving a man so you can take him out on a coffee date?”
She didn’t even try to stop her laughter, not as Charles pulled her chair closer to his own until she was pressed flushed against him. His arm automatically pulled her to him, his own lips pulled into a smile before he lowered himself on to her mouth. Their kiss was sweet, as sweet as this moment was. A moment that Y/N was sure she would never forget.
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euphemiaamillais · 2 months
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modern!buzzcut coryo teaching innocent!reader how to suck his cock the way he likes it :(. and he’s all cocky cause reader’s never seen a dick irl and she praises it like “ur so big, coryo :((“ “it’s so pretty”
coryo is reader’s tutor in university and she’s always had a bit of a crush on him cause he’s so handsome, smart and confident
UGHHH need a little blurb about this pleasee
🎀 anon this is insane tysm for this prompt
mdni | coryo teaches you to suck him off
you’d had the biggest crush on coryo since he’d been assigned to you as your tutor—he was probably the hottest guy you’d ever seen; icy blue eyes, toned arms and a blonde buzzcut. normally you went for the more quiet, boy-next-door type; but you couldn’t help but be attracted to him, there was something about his more dangerous nature that tempted you—that made your core burn.
you two had gotten considerably close compared to the other students he tutored, and one evening he asked you for a private study session at his apartment. you were nervous, but also brimming with excitement. you were only nervous because you really liked him, but you were a virgin and if he tried anything, you were worried you’d be clumsy.
you made sure to look extra nice—and put on your tightest shirt and a tiny mini skirt, hoping he’d catch sight of your lacy underwear if you had to bend over. you even put on a little lipgloss, one that smelled like strawberries.
when you knocked on his door, he was dressed in a white shirt that stretched across his muscular arms and toned chest, and the look he gave you when he cast his gaze over your body made your heart thump. he couldn’t stop looking at your thighs, the way your mini skirt barely stopped past your ass. fuck, were you doing this on purpose?
‘hi coryo,’ you greeted him with a hug, and he got a whiff of your apple shampoo as you wrapped your arms around him.
he had to draw in a deep breath as he felt your boobs pressing against his torso; afraid that the blood would rush to his cock from the way you were being so touchy.
‘i thought we’d work on some political theory,’ he said, trying to distract himself from how fucking good you looked.
you nodded shyly, too consumed by the thought of how big his arms felt around you, how his hands brushed against your waist. you couldn’t believe he was hot and smart—to be honest you didn’t really care much for your political science class but seeing him made you work harder.
as you bounded down the hall to the living room, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of the way your little skirt swished against your ass—revealing the pair of lace panties you were wearing. he decided you were definitely trying to do this on purpose.
it was boring, going over different democratic processes, and you felt yourself yawning as he droned on and on. all you could think about was how much you wanted to know what it would feel like to kiss him… or perhaps do more. you’d never seen a cock before, but you wanted to know what it felt like—to suck one, perhaps…
‘are you listening to me?’ you heard the voice of coryo call out, bringing you back to earth.
‘sorry,’ you pursed your lips, casting an apologetic look.
coryo shook his head, but decided to let you off—after all, there were more interesting things he could be doing this evening. your skirt had hiked up around your thighs, and you could see him staring. your cheeks turned pink, embarrassment flooding to them.
‘are you bored?’ he inquired, and you tilted your head ever so slightly.
‘y-yes,’ you admitted, eyes glancing down at your feet.
being aware that he was looking at you had made you nervous—suddenly you felt very conscious of the fact that you were wearing a tiny skirt, and that your shirt was stretching against your breasts. coryo leaned in closer to you, breath brushing against your cheek. you could see desire brimming in his icy gaze, and felt one of his hands snake to your lower back.
‘what do you want to do instead?’ he murmured.
your lip trembled, he was so close to you, his hand moved down to cup your ass—you were so innocent, the way you were bashfully gazing up at him.
‘um…’ a giggle escaped your lips. ‘i don’t know…’
he cocked a brow, smirk crossing his lips. he didn’t believe that, not with the way you were dressed, not with how you didn’t try to push him away when he squeezed your ass.
‘you sure about that?’ you shook your head in response, pretty eyes filled with nervousness. you were waiting for him to say something.
coryo felt his cock hardening as you shifted a little, hand accidentally brushing against his crotch. his lips parted, and he brought your own against them, enveloping you in a kiss. you opened your mouth, letting your tongue brush against his, making pretty noises as he kissed you hotly.
you’d never gone further than a few drunken makeouts with boys, so when you moved into coryo’s lap you were quite surprised at the feeling of something hard poking against your thigh. when you pulled away, cheeks flushed, chest heaving from your pounding heart, he had a lustful look drawn upon his face.
‘look at that, you’ve made me hard,’ coryo whispered against your ear, his hand still pawing at your ass.
‘sorry,’ you were still red, but you felt a wetness beginning to form between your thighs.
‘mhm, i don’t think you’re very sorry, are you princess?’ he teased, nipping at the soft skin of your neck. he wondered if you’d ever been given a hickey before.
‘no…’ you admitted, lashes fluttering.
how cute. the way you were all rosy-cheeked and nervous at the sight of him being hard. he let out a low groan as you moved your hips down against him—unconscious of what you were doing, of course. you only realised what you were doing when you felt his boner pressing right against your cunt.
‘you know… i could get you some extra credit if you do something for me.’ he offered. you perked up at the thought of that—extra credit. you really hated your political science class.
‘what do you want me to do?’ your brows were furrowed, an innocent look painted upon your features.
‘you know how to suck cock?’ he asked, and you shook your head, drawing your lips into a thin line.
you wanted to do it, though. you wanted him so bad that your panties were soaked, and you were sure he could feel it. the way you were moving your hips ever-so-slightly and clenching your thighs to ease the tension.
'course you don't...' he thumbed the flushed skin of your cheeks, a smile creeping upon his lips at the thought of corrupting you. 'gonna teach you how, yeah? i'm your tutor for a reason.'
your eyes widened, and he couldn't help but sigh at how fucking innocent you were. but he saw a level of desperation inside of you too, a need for him and his cock.
'now, princess, you're going to get on your knees, yeah?' his voice was soft as he directed you, pulling you off his lap so you could kneel before him.
when you'd obliged him, you gazed up at him, dumbfounded, and he took your hand and guided it to his bulge. he was so hard—painfully so—and the way you were looking at him, so eager to please, only made him throb all the more.
'see how fucking hard you've made me?' you nodded, giggling with delight as you palmed his clothed cock.
'i wanna suck it now,' you said, a little demanding.
he smirked, and moved your hand to the waistband of his jeans, directing you to unbutton them. you obeyed, and slid his jeans down to reveal his black calvin klein boxers—a man with taste, obviously. he looked even bigger now through his underwear, and you audibly gasped, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth with a hunger.
'is it gonna fit?' you asked anxiously, brows arching.
'course it will, princess,' he remarked, thinking about how much he'd love to see you gagging around him with those pretty pink lips of yours—he loved how they'd tasted of strawberries when you'd kissed him; so deliciously innocent.
you tugged at the waist and of his boxers, and when his cock sprang out your mouth stretched open in shock. he was so big. like, unbelievably big. not that you’d ever seen a cock before but you couldn’t fathom how it was supposed to fit in your mouth. the tip was red and leaning against his shirt until you reached out to grab it with your hand.
‘it’s so pretty,’ you smiled up at him, singing praises.
‘yeah? you wanna put it in your mouth?’ he suggested, and you gnawed nervously at your glossy lips.
‘what exactly do i have to do?’ you inquired, furrowing your brows. you looked so cute and confused that he had to clench his thighs to stop himself coming at the sight of you. that would be humiliating.
‘give the tip a lick, princess,’ he guided, and so you obliged.
you moved your head down, one hand gripping the base. you liked how it felt in your hand, warm and pulsing. you could almost giggle at the feeling, you wanted to take it all the way down your throat so bad but he was just too big. you stuck your tongue out, and gave the tip an experimental lick, licking up all the precum that coated it.
coryo let out a soft groan, moving his hand to smooth your hair as a gesture that you were going well. you licked the tip again, and then gazed up at him, eager to see his response. his mouth was stretched around another sound of pleasure, and his hips twitched ever so slightly at the feeling of your wet tongue.
‘it’s like a lollipop,’ you giggled, and he felt himself throb at your innocence. you just couldn’t help being so cute, could you? so fucking naive that you were in university and you’d never even sucked cock before!
‘now, i want you to take me properly,’ he begun, and you watched as he instructed you. ‘wrap your lips around me, yeah? see how far you can go.’
you obliged, making sure to push your top lip behind your teeth, realising that would probably hurt the sensitive skin of his shaft. you moved your head as far down as you could go, and when he hit the back of your throat you gagged and your eyes welled up with tears automatically.
his cock twitched in your mouth. you’d barely taken in two inches of him and already your mouth was full, lips stretched wide, pretty eyes watering. he watched you attempt to push yourself further, but it was too much, and you gagged again.
‘too big,’ you whined, a few tears trickling down your cheek.
he swiped them away with his thumb, and shook his head.
‘you gotta move your head up and down, princess,’ he guided you back to wrap your lips back around the tip. ‘try use your tongue too, laying it flat against the shaft as you bob your head.’
you moved your tongue against his shaft as you bobbed your head up and down, and watched as he let out a breathy moan. you attempted to take him further again, this time you reached about half way before gagging and having to pull him out.
‘i’m sorry,’ you whimpered, but he simply stroked your cheek and beamed down at you.
‘you’re doing so well, princess. you can use your hand if the rest won’t fit,’ he murmured, and you gave a nod of understanding.
you used one hand to grip the base while the other stroked him up and down, and wrapped your lips back around his cock. it was easier now, you didn’t have to worry about taking the other half—and it was a big half—down your throat, so you laved at him as much as you could, saliva coating his veiny cock.
‘fuck,’ he groaned, feeling his balls tighten as your tongue slid over a particularly sensitive vein.
your eyes rolled back as you pushed him to the back of your throat, hollowing out your cheeks so as much of him could fit. your core flooded with heat, you loved having his cock in your mouth so much. you adjusted your hips a little to try and ease the tension, but it was no use, so you just had to put up with the dull ache as you continued to suck him off.
coryo moved your hand at the base of his cock, and guided it to his balls. you fondled them gently, watching as his features were dancing with satisfaction, eyes fluttering prettily.
‘good girl,’ he said between groans. ‘taking my cock so well, so good…’
you smiled best you could, though it was hard with his cock down your throat. you felt him throbbing in your mouth, and pulled him out for a brief second so you could move your tongue up and down his shaft.
‘want you to come in my mouth,’ you informed him with an impish grin, moving to slide your tongue down the underside of his cock.
‘wasn’t planning on coming anywhere else… yet,’ he laughed softly, threading his fingers through your hair as you swirled your tongue around the tip of his cock.
he was close, hips bucking into your palm as one hand massaged his balls. you were a quick learner, which was surprising considering you were quite the opposite when it came to political science. perhaps he’d just have to tutor you in this, instead.
‘mhm, gonna…’ his mouth stretched around another groan. ‘come.’
your lips were wrapped around him once again, and with an elegant thrust he emptied himself in your mouth. hot spurts of cum trickled onto your tongue and down your throat, the pearly stuff tasting slightly salty.
you giggled, pulling him out and watching the excess dribble from his tip. you opened your mouth wide and stuck your tongue out, showing him all the cum that pooled on it.
‘swallow it,’ he commanded.
you obliged, feeling it trickle down your throat. you poked your tongue out again and took the head—which was now extremely sensitive—licking up the rest of the stuff from his leaky tip.
‘so good,’ you moaned, swallowing it all down.
he couldn’t believe how hot you were, plump lips wet with saliva, your eyes gazing at him as you swallowed every last drop of his cum.
‘i’ll make sure you get an A on this assignment,’ he smiled, pulling you up to sit in his lap.
‘of course, that’s after i tutor you in something else…’
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peachesofteal · 3 months
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Simple Math / Part Six
Simple Math masterlist
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Ghost/Soap/female reader 4k words - AO3 Warnings - tags: 18+ MDNI. No smut but this fic contains mature themes. Nurse reader, hospital setting, medical inaccuracies. Reference to past domestic violence. Angst. Alcohol. Crying, anxiety, panic. Johnny in distress. Johnny is still a menace. Soft dads. POV switches. Note: Safe sleep for infants always. I do not endorse sleeping with your baby in your bed. This is a fic not real life. Simon does some digging.
“Shhh now, ye’re alright.”
Johnny coos, Penny cradled up to his chest. He’s not wearing a shirt, eyes still half sealed shut with sleep, and she squalls in his arms, screaming as loud as her little lungs will allow. “What is it, mah wee lamb? Are ye hungry? Do ye need a change?” He checks her nappy, efficiently looking for a mess or something to clean up and is nearly disappointed when he finds her still dry. If it’s not her nappy, then maybe her stomach? Could she be hungry again? He thumbs through the notes on his phone to find Simon’s last entry: 23:20 – 50 ML. 
That was only an hour ago. 
He frowns, walking in a circle, bouncing her gently, trying to settle her back to sleep. She’s so tiny, and still has grown so much in just the short time since they brought her home. It amazes him. It terrifies him. 
“What is it, sweet bairn? What’s got ye all upset?” He touches his lips to softest skin he’s ever felt, his thumb trying to swipe away the tracks of tears on her cheeks. “Please dinnae cry. I-“ 
“You okay?” Simon clears his throat behind him, and Johnny tenses. 
“We’re fine. Ye’re supposed to be sleepin’.” 
“Heard the two of you in here fussing. Thought I could help.” Simon’s trying to be supportive, trying to be a good partner, Johnny knows, but all he can feel is irritation, a defensive reaction making his hackles rise. 
It’s not fair. He’s so good at it. He’s a natural. And Johnny… Johnny feels like he’s failing his own kid, when she’s not even a month old yet. 
“I dinnae need-“ 
“Hey.” Simon touches his elbow, and then his chin, tilting his face upwards. “I know you don’t, love. You’re doing a great job. It’s not your fault she’s having a rough go.” He soothes him, fingers kneading into the top of his spine, squeezing the nape of his neck and pulling him into his arms. Penny is still crying, but softer now, a low-pitched tone of misery that makes his heart ache, and he feels so overwhelmed, so helpless, staring down at her as she tries desperately to tell him what's wrong, the only way she knows how. He rests his cheek against Simon’s chest, melting into his hold, letting him wrap his arms all way around his waist. 
“She hates me.” Johnny grumbles, and Simon presses his mouth to Johnny’s temple in short, succinct kisses. 
“She doesn’t. She’s brand new. She can’t hate anything, yet, and certainly not her Da.” He strokes her cheek. “Let’s bring her to bed, see if we can get her down and then one of us can put her back in the crib, alright?” Johnny sighs. 
“Alright.” 
“What’re you doing after this?”
“Going to bed?” What else would you be doing?
“I’m thinking about going to Jackie’s for a drink… wanna come?” Nia untucks her scrubs, pulling the top up over her head.
“Jackie’s, huh?” You chew on your lip. You shouldn’t. You really, really shouldn’t. But… Jackie’s is a dive. It’s dark, and dingy, with black walls, black floors, no window in sight. And... it’s a hospital haunt. 
“It’s my birthday.” She whispers, casting a glance around the rest of the room. “I’m not… it’s not a thing, I just want to go, have a few to celebrate.” You take a deep breath. “Please?” She tacks on at the end, and your shoulders dip down in defeat.
“Okay. One. And then I gotta go.”
“Yes!” She cheers, excitement smashing her palms together.
Nothing like a seven am beer. 
Jackie’s is a distinct place. It’s one of the only twenty-four-hour liquor licenses left in the city, or so you’ve been told, and has been frequented by hospital staff for decades. It’s dart boards and dark wood floors, cheap beer and rail vodka, a worn to hell pool table, and an old, disabled juke box that someone broke intentionally, years ago. It’s an institution, and reminds you of some old places you used to frequent, when you weren’t… who you are now. Years ago, before, you used to love a good dive bar. Didn’t mind the way the floor stuck to your feet, and you considered yourself nearly tactical at darts. It was a source of pride, the accuracy, the rate at which you could make a bullseye, even when you were a few sheets to the wind.
“Coulda been a surgeon.” You’d tease, a smirk growing across your boyfriend’s face.
“If you were a surgeon, sugar, who’d be at home waitin’ for me after work?” He’d push back, coating the warning in an adoration, giving whoever was undoubtedly watching a slick smile before snaking an arm around your waist and tugging you close. “You don’t need to be surgeon. You don’t even need to work. You have me.” 
You thought you knew, then. Knew how to handle it, how to navigate the ever-present, ever-growing threat… but you were wrong.
You were so, so wrong.
“So, heard there’s a spot opening up on days.” Nia chucks her purse at the bar top, climbing onto the stool next to you. “You’ve got the seniority… you givin’ it any thought?” The bartender walks by with a hello, and you nod at him.
“Old Speck please. And no, I like nights.” She raises an eyebrow.
“Didn’t know Americans liked Old Speck.”
“We have it in the states. I didn’t live under a rock.” You quip, and she laughs before ordering her own poison, a choice that makes your own eyebrows shoot up in question. “Vodka on the rocks?”
“I’m a straight to the point kind of girl.” She explains. “So, no days?”
“No days. You?”
“I might. Night shift is kicking my ass.” She complains. “Don’t even know what day it is half the time. My rhythm is off.”
“You need like, at least six months to fully adjust.” You put a note down in exchange for your beer, and then the bartender scuttles away, distracted by some insistent woman at the other end of the bar.
“Six months?!” You’re about to launch into your spiel about how it’s not that bad when your phone vibrates in your pocket.
>Make it home from work alright? 
>It’s Johnny, by the way :) 
The two texts are the start of a new group chat with your number, Johnny’s number and the number you put in your contacts just yesterday… Simon’s. Your head jerks back on instinct, confused.
“You okay?” Nia asks, and you nod.
“Yeah, fine just…uh-“ She peeks over your arm, and giggles.
“Is that your patient? Two sixty-eight?”
“What?”
“Your patient. The military hottie. The one that’s always lookin’ at your bum.” Your face burns, and she tsks. “Ah, don’t be embarrassed. He’s smokin’. Wish he looked at me the way he looks at you.” You’re surprised at the flare of irritation that starts up in your stomach at her, a hot streak of jealously simmering there, burning away indignantly. “Aren’t they… I mean… isn’t the scary mask guy his partner?” He’s not scary, you scowl inwardly. He’s just… protective. The butterflies in your stomach startle, and you drift back to last night, in the stairwell, in the car.
“You’re doing great, sweetheart.” 
“If you ever need anything, Johnny and I… we’re here.” 
Nia says your name, dragging you back to earth, and you shrug. “Yes… they… they’re together. It’s just been hard on them, so I think there’s a bit of an attachment growing there. You know, it’s not unusual.” She bites her lip, mouth pushing up into a smile.
“They’re quite fit. Wouldn’t mind if they formed an attachment to me.” She pauses, delicately sucking her gasoline on ice up through a straw. “Gonna text him back?”
“Nia.” You hiss, and she barks out a laugh.
“Oh, come on, just a bit of fun. I don’t mean anything by it.”
“It’s not appropriate.” You remind her, and she rolls her eyes.
“You’re such a stick in the mud sometimes. Remember when Marshall was fucking his brain cancer girl? Now that, was not appropriate.” You do remember- Marshall’s sudden absence, the whispering, the HR investigation that spanned weeks, interviews with everyone on the floor.
Your beer goes sour in your stomach.
“I gotta get home.” You wrap an arm around her shoulder with a squeeze and a whisper. “Happy Birthday.” You feel bad for abandoning her, and maybe in another life you might even consider her a friend, but you’re already too exposed here as it is, and staying any longer would be too indulgent- not to mention, incredibly stupid.
You pass another nurse on the way out and him know that Nia’s at the bar, alleviating your guilt just a tad before you hike up your hood and make a beeline for the train.
By the time you get back to your hotel room, get showered, and collapse on top of the far too big bed, it’s nearly been an hour. You plug your phone in, unlocking the screen to flick on do not disturb, and realize the group message is still open, cursor blinking, waiting for your response.
It’s fine. You can tell you got home okay, that’s not crossing any lines. 
>Yeah, just got settled for bed. See you later!
A text from Simon chimes back within a minute, and you squint at it, one eye open.
>Get some rest.  
The floor is dead silent at the beginning of your shift.
Nothing beeps or whines or cries, no noise echoes around the corner to where you’re scrolling through Johnny’s chart, getting caught up on his day, triple checking that his levels and vitals are all within normal range. He passed his follow up for the liver procedure with flying colors, and the relief you feel is not unexpected, the weight of worry lifting free from your shoulders without another thought.
He’s fine, he’s better than fine, he’s… too healthy for the ICU.
Reality hits you like a truck, and you stop short, sneakers squeaking along the floor.
He won’t be your patient anymore. 
He won’t… be your patient anymore. 
The thought twists you into a mess of complicated emotions. A snarled, tangled viper's nest of unknowns, uncertainties, things you're desperately trying to tuck back behind your heart, hide them away so no one, not even yourself, can see them.
This is a good thing. This is what you want. Stable patients, on their way to recovery. 
So, you’ll miss them, that’s okay. There’s a little bit attachment, that’s alright. 
This is the best case scenario. You’re making a mess of things. You’re getting too involved with your patient and his family. You let Simon drive you home, for fucks sake. 
They’re getting confused, because you’re the caretaker. It happens all the time. As soon as Johnny steps down, they’ll forget all about you. 
You’re risking too much. You’re risking their safety, their child’s safety, your own. 
It’s for the best. 
You put your best work smile on when you approach his room, pulling as much air into your lungs as you can manage.
Focus on your job. Your patient. You’re a professional. 
Johnny is alone. No Simon, no visitors, nobody keeping him company. It’s a strange sight, and he looks almost uncomfortable, creased brow lowered down over his eyes. That’s… odd. Worse, there’s a heaviness in his gaze, sadness pulling his mouth downwards, usual playful demeanor nowhere in sight. Even sad, he’s a marvel, and every day, he gets stronger, he gets healthier, he gets closer to leaving this room, amazing you with his tenacity, his will. 
“Hey, you on your own tonight?” You casually knock on the door frame, and then pull it shut behind you, cocking your head.
“Aye.” He’s sullen, his despair tugging you closer to the bed, an urge to try to comfort him too strong to deny. 
“How are you feeling?” You try the subtle question, hoping he'll be forthcoming, and you keep yourself composed as you wait for his answer. 
“’m alright.” You tab through his chart, glancing it over once more, if only to assuage your own anxieties, and then tap into his vitals. Everything looks good, last labs look great… so what’s going on? 
“Just alright?” His fingers flex in the blanket, tanned skin against white linen, picking at fibers and threads, unable to hold himself still. He looks like he’s going to burst open at the seams, explode inside this room, a ticking time bomb, just waiting for the end of the countdown.
A tear tracks down his cheek. “Johnny?” You step closer, close enough so your fingers graze his, trying to delicately let him know, you’re here. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. What’s going on?” The monitor beeps steadily in the silence, his chest depresses with a gust of air.
“It’s… it’s nothin’ bun. I’m jus’… I’m havin’ a bad day.”
“Want to talk about it? I hear I’m a pretty good listener.” You encourage, and his face twists.
“No, I- Ach. Aye, alright.” He shifts in the bed, and you hover in case he needs help, but he waves you away. “It’s… bein’ in here. I want to be wi’ my family. Penny turned one, before I left for this assignment. Was only supposed to be two weeks tops, but then it turned into a month, then two. And now, I’m home… but ’m not really home, and I-“ His voice cracks, raw thread of agonized emotion separating his words, and he swallows it, forcing it back. “I’m blown to bits and cannae even see my own daughter. I’m missin’ out on everything.” Oh, Johnny. Your heart is heavy, and it hurts for him, bleeds as he wipes his face. 
“You’re not blown to bits, just a little banged up.” You give him a soft smile, and when he shakes his head, your fingers find his on instinct. You don’t even stop to second guess yourself, fully sinking into the contact with a gentle squeeze. “Hey, look at me.” His lashes are wet, sticky with tears, and he sniffles. “You’re making great progress, Johnny, going to be out of here in no time. You won’t even be in the ICU much longer, and then once you’re downstairs, Penny will be able to come visit all the time. After that, it won’t be too much longer until you’re back home with them.” He nods, and you stroke your thumb across his knuckles.
“Ye think so?”
“You’re the toughest patient I’ve ever had, and I’ve had a fair amount, you know. Traumatic injury recovery takes time, it takes patience, but you’re doing a great job of it so far. You just have to take it one day at a time. Before you know it, you’ll be at home on your own couch, bossin’ Simon around all day instead of me.” He laughs at that, a throaty chuckle capable of spreading heady warmth through your veins, and then gives you one of those stupidly stunning smiles.
“Shouldnae be cryin’ in front of ye.”
“You can cry in front of me any time you want. That’s what I’m here for. Besides, it’s not the first time.” You tease and he rolls his eyes.
“Doesnae count. I was high.”
“Uh huh. Sure.” The untouched dinner tray on his side table catches your eye, and chilling worry reappears in the back of your mind. “You didn’t eat?”
“Didnae have an appetite until ye showed up, pretty girl.” Okay. You can remedy this easily, if he's interested in eating. Lack of appetite is alarming, but if you can get him to eat now... 
“You hungry? I haven’t eaten yet. Want me to grab you something?” He brightens, indulging in a spectacular smile, and you take it as a yes with a small laugh. “Alright. Let me run down to the café, yeah?”
“What’s that saying, about how I hate to see ye go, but love to watch ye leav-“
“Okay!” you practically shout, cutting him off, fire racing across your skin, and he snickers, palm pressing against his heart like he’s wounded. “I’ll be right back.” You give him a serious look, and and he rubs his palm through his hair, mirth sparkling in his eyes. Holy hell. How is he so attractive? And how is it still so blinding, every time?  
You get two of the only option left this late in the evening, chicken soup and some sourdough, balancing the bowls carefully on their trays until you’re placing them down in the room, swinging the little table over Johnny’s lap and settling in beside him, perched on Simon’s recliner. The soup is warm, spiced with herbs and thick with noodles, and you're pleased that it's better than you were expecting, happy that Johnny seems to like it as well. 
"Wanted to take ye out properly for our first date, but this will have ta’ do. Simon’s gon’ be so bloody jealous.” He masterfully hums between your bites, and your eyes go wide, trying and failing to swallow your soup instead of choking on it.
“Johnny, we… this… I- this isn’t a date!” you squeak.
“Why not?” He asks, inflection innocent, and your brain rattles around inside your skull, splitting down the middle, falling apart in bewilderment. Why not? What does he mean?
“You… you have a partner. Simon? You know, your family that we were literally just talking about?” He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you with this look on his face, one you can’t interpret. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“What did Simon tell ye, the other night. When he took ye home?”
“What? He… I don’t remember.” Does he know that Simon gave you his phone number? 
Of course, he knows, he started that group text. 
Does Simon know what Johnny said, about you coming into their lives? About-
“Didnae he tell ye, we’re here for ye?”
“Y-yeah.”
“We, bunny? We.”
“I don’t… I don’t understand.” He sighs. What is he trying to say? What is going on?
“We like ye. Like I said, we think ye’re really special. Simon, and I. Together, bun.”
“Wh-what?” Puzzle pieces snap together and then break apart, like a landscape jigsaw that you spent days completing once before it was promptly ruined. Does he... does he mean... Oh. Oh no. Oh no no no. You have to squash this. Now. Just explain it, he’ll get it. He’s smart. “No… no, Johnny it’s just… it’s this thing, that happens. Patients get attached to their nurses or doctors sometimes, it’s normal. You d-don’t like me, I promise. There’s nothing even to like.” He blinks, jaw grinding under stubble. If Simon’s stare feels like he’s reading your mind, then Johnny’s is like being pinned down in one place, unable to move. You’re paralyzed, and powerless, lost in the icy blue sea of his eyes, drowning with a hand sticking out above the crest of the surf, reaching for him.
“Why would ye say that? That there’s nothin’ about ye to like? Nothin’ could be farther from the truth.”
“I don’t… there’s not. It’s… I’m your nurse, Johnny. That’s all.” Sweat glosses the small of your back, slicking upwards to cover your spine, and your heart hammers, it beats, beats, beats- so loudly you’re sure the pulse point in your wrist is visible. “Johnny.” His name shakes from your lips, and he relaxes, gentle concern replacing the relentless intensity in his gaze.
“Shhh, hey. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didnae mean to upset ye.” You're still frozen, a statue, and he reaches for you, trying to grab onto your hand. The heat of his skin breaks you from the spell, and you force a robotic, bedside smile onto your face, scooping up your half empty bowl.
"It's okay." You need to get out of this room. Now. The walls feel too close, Johnny feels too close, everything is compounding on top of you, threatening to derail your entire life, ruin your plan. They cannot like you. They cannot care about you. They cannot show interest in you. You can’t let this happen. “I’ve gotta check on some other patients, okay? I’ll swing back your way in a bit.” You promise him, guilt eating you alive about running away, and when he gives you a sad smile, you almost lose your resolve.
“Alright, pretty girl. I’ll see ye later, then.” He murmurs, and you try not to trip over feet during your hasty exit.
Fuck. You’re so fucked. 
Simon and Johnny’s house is finally silent.  
Penny is down, safely tucked into dream world, her grainy grey-scale image flickering on the video monitor at Simon as he pours two fingers worth of bourbon into a glass.
Poor baby girl. His stomach twists. She put up such a fight tonight, hollering at the top of her lungs, standing up in her crib, working herself into an absolute state. He hates leaving her alone to cry, and on nights like this one, the only way she’ll close her eyes is if she’s being held, snuggled in Johnny's arms, or against Simon's chest. 
He’s a sucker, he knows. Doomed from the day she was born, but he can’t help it. Neither of them can. She’s their baby.
So, he doesn’t blame her for being so out of sorts. She always sleeps better when her Da is home. They both do.
His phone vibrates with a text, a short message from Johnny, and he scrolls through it, settling on the couch with his laptop, unopened email from Laswell blinking impatiently.
>She’s jumpy. Tired. Looks like she hasn’t gotten any sleep. Simon frowns.
> She manage to find a pair of panties for work today?
>Unfortunately. He can practically see the pout on Johnny’s lips, can hear the way he probably huffed and puffed when you first came into the room this evening, your hips swishing side to side, pretty smile on your face for him.
>I think I made her upset. Simon pinches the bridge of his nose. Johnny, love. Why can’t you listen? He takes a deep breath, trying to relax the worry that’s creeping up the back of his neck. 
Disagreements aren’t for text messages. They’ve learned that the hard way. 
>Take it easy for the rest of the night, then. She’s skittish. He shoots off the recommendation, and then pulls his laptop across his knee, clicking open the email from Kate.
Simon,  Your girl is a ghost. This kind of wipe work is professional level… are you sure she’s a nurse?  I’ve attached everything I could find, but it’s pretty scarce. The name you provided pulled a copy of her NHS nursing license, her taxes, an award she won at work last year, and a COVID vaccination record. No birth certificate, state identification, or public records of any kind, even after a global hand search. Nothing that even proves she exists or is an American except a sealed record from two years ago in the states. It’s not accessible, even for me, which means it could be WITSEC, or a court ordered name change in relation to a domestic violence case. There are 18 states that seal those records to protect the victim, so she could be from anywhere. My gut says it’s probably the latter, which is why she doesn’t exist prior to.  You’ll notice on the vaccine record, she marked ‘unhoused’, and I couldn’t find any lease/rental agreements, sale records, or mortgages in her name.  I wish I had more for you, but she really is a bit of a puzzle. I’ll keep digging.  -K.L. 
There’s an unsettling rattle going off in the front of Simon’s skull. It’s a siren, a smattering of warning bells, and he swallows the rest of the bourbon in one go, embracing the burn that slides down the back of his throat.
Who are you, little bunny? And who are you running from? 
1K notes · View notes
celandeline · 2 months
Text
Not Your Boyfriend, Baby
Farleigh X Reader, SMUT - tw for cheating, reader both cheats and is cheated on
part two
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Being Felix’s girlfriend comes with a set of rules. 
Always stand to his right, so that he can hand you whatever he’s holding without having to think about it. Let him pull you into his lap whenever he wants, even if you’d really rather just sit next to him - always sit next to him. Laugh at the jokes he makes, even if they aren’t funny. Help him with his coursework when he asks, pretend that you need help with things that you know he’s good at so he doesn’t feel stupid. Pretend that he can make you cum. Pretend you don’t know he’s cheating on you.
Being Felix’s girlfriend comes with a set of rules - but the perks are worth it. 
The necklace he got you for your birthday costs more than your first car, and if you ever sell it, will easily cover rent for at least a year. Designer clothes have a habit of appearing in your dorm room unannounced, always in your size - just because Felix likes when you look good next to him. No clubs are too exclusive to get into, there’s always a booth in the back of the pub reserved for you, people bend over backwards just for the chance of being in Felix’s vicinity - so naturally they’ll do anything for you. 
You’re using him as much as he’s using you - it’s mutually beneficial. You get to live within his innermost circle, he gets to have someone to bring home to his parents so they don’t start looking into arranged marriages after graduation. You have no intentions of actually marrying him, god no - you’ve heard him talk about how many kids he wants, there’s no way in hell you’re pushing out six - but you’ll take what you can get. Felix is a comfortable rung on the social ladder you’re trying to climb. 
“Right, love?” 
Felix’s voice drags you out of your thoughts and back into reality - the warm lighting of the pub casts everyone around your table in a warm golden glow. You’re pressed against Felix’s right side - always his right side - his arm perched on the back of the booth around your shoulders, casually possessive. It’s a little funny how possessive he is, considering how often he cheats on you. On his other side, Annabel nurses a pint, her overlined eyes locked on Felix, utterly enraptured. 
Across the table, India looks at him with the same hunger, even though her head rests on Farleigh’s shoulder. Farleigh looks how you feel - utterly bored, his eyes wandering the room as he idly smokes a cigarette. He’s always been prettier than Felix. More interesting too. If you weren’t trying to climb the social ladder high enough to marry rich and not have to work a day in your life, he’d be who you’re pressed against instead of Felix. There’s something about him that’s always given you the sense that he sees right through you, but it’s exciting. You know he knows why you’re here next to Felix, with a diamond he bought you around your neck. But Felix has no idea - he thinks you’re in love with him. 
It’s laughable, how in his own head he is. 
Still, you feed into the delusion, that practiced sugary-sweet smile playing at your lips as you look up at him. “Mhm.” You hum, picking up your pint and sipping at it. 
Felix grins wide, and turns back to Annabel. “See?”
Annabel rolls her eyes, leaning around Felix to pin a look at you. “You weren’t even paying attention.”
The animosity that every other girl within a fifty mile radius directs at you is the one drawback of being Felix’s main piece. Your smile turns a little sharper. “Yeah.” You admit easily, setting your pint back down. “But I know Felix enough to know that he was probably right.”
Across the table, Farleigh snorts. 
Your eyes slide over to him, and he meets your glance. Ever so slightly, he tilts his head, a dry smile playing at his lips - a silent, really?
You tilt your head in the same direction, mocking - yes, really.
Felix turns back to Annabel. “I’m always right, Anna - best get used to it.”
She rolls her eyes again, but this time it’s playful - flirty, even. You can already see how the rest of tonight is going to play out - Felix will make some excuse about drinking too much or not feeling well or whatever else his idiotic brain can come up with, and disappear back to his dorm room to fuck her. Tomorrow, of course, you’ll act like you’re none the wiser. In two weeks time, when the guilt starts to get at him, a new pair of heels or a Dior skirt will find its way into your closet. 
Simply the way of things. 
Pulling away from Felix’s hold, you make to get up. He glances at you, concerned, but you only smile, and kiss him on the cheek so that you can slide out of the booth. “Gotta use the loo.”
You brush your hands down your skirt as you stand up, and start towards the back of the pub, where the bathrooms are, tossing a look over your shoulder back at the table. You catch Farleigh’s eye, and hold it for a moment. His lips curl upward around his cigarette. With Felix likely going home with Annabel, your schedule for the night just opened up…
Maybe tonight’s the night you do something - someone - just for yourself. Set your plans for the future aside for once, and just have fun. After all, you’re confident Felix will be none the wiser - you know exactly what not to do after watching him fumble around with any and every other girl that’s caught his eye. 
You disappear into the bathroom, Farleigh’s gaze still on you. 
The noise from the pub is quieter here, just a dull hum seeping in through the walls. You lock the door behind you, and inspect yourself in the mirror. You smudge the dark eyeshadow around your eyes a little more, and fluff up your hair so that it doesn’t sit so lifelessly against your head. Your sex appeal back in place, you splash some water on your hands and pat them against your skirt before you leave, stepping back out into the pub. 
As expected, Farleigh is waiting for you, leaning against the wall next to the bathroom door, finishing off his cigarette. A quick glance back at the table lets you know that you were right - Annabel and Felix are gone. India’s moved onto Jack now, laughing a little too loud at something he says. 
“Felix said he wasn’t feeling well, all of a sudden.” Farleigh drawls, bringing your attention back to him. “Annabel’s walking him home.” There’s a touch of humor in his voice that you appreciate - he knows just as well as you do what they’re off to do.
“Shame.” You say, not bothering to try and sound actually sad at all. It wouldn’t fool Farleigh anyway. “Got tired of India?” You snatch the last of his cigarette from his fingers, finishing it off in one drag and dropping the butt to the floor, stamping it out with my boot. 
Farleigh watches you, his eyes half-lidded. “Is there such a thing as not being tired of India?”
“She’s not all bad.” You say. 
He tilts his head, that wry smile coming back to his face. “She’s not trying to fuck you.”
You can’t help but grin at that. “Touche.” You wouldn’t know what it’s like to be on the receiving end of India’s flirting - but if Farleigh’s boredom is anything to judge by, she must not be very good at it. 
Silence falls between us, and you let yourself look at him, eyes tracing down the lines of his neck until you reach the hollow at the base, and then back up to his lips.
“So.” Farleigh says. 
You meet his eyes again. “So.”
He grins, foxlike and charming. “You wanna get out of here?”
The walk back to campus is short, but it feels longer with how much you talk about with Farleigh - school and America and family and money and Felix and a million other, less important, things. It’s the most intellectually stimulating conversation you’ve had in a long time, and the most you’ve genuinely laughed in a while too. It’s everything you’ve been missing with Felix - and it makes the war between your want for fortune and fame in the future and your want for genuine connection rage all the more. 
It comes to an end all too quickly for your liking, as you reach the steps to your dorm. 
You slow to a stop, and Farleigh stops as well, looking down at you, hands tucked casually into his pockets. “Does it ever bother you?” He asks.
“What?” You reply. 
“That he cheats on you.” Farleigh clarifies. 
It’s a complicated question to answer, so instead you turn it around on him instead. “Does it ever bother you that he’s fucked India?”
Farleigh rolls his eyes. “That’s-”
“He does it to literally everyone.” You press on. “I stopped caring a while ago.”
Something contemplative washes over his face, and he just looks at you for a moment, eyes searching yours for something. His next question is quieter. “Who would you pick, if you weren’t stuck with him?”
Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. “I’m not stuck with him.”
Farleigh looks at you, obviously amused. “I can see you trying not to roll your eyes every time he opens his mouth.”
You shrug. “The pros outweigh the cons.”
“So cynical.” He taunts, stepping closer. “You still haven’t answered the question.”
“I think it’s fairly obvious who I would pick if I wasn’t with Felix.” You say, letting him back you up the steps until your back is against the door. You look up at him, and meet his eyes. 
He grins. “Yeah, but I want you to say it.”
“It’s you.” You say, voice barely above a whisper. “Like it would be anyone else-”
He cuts you off by pressing his lips to yours, a moan leaving him as you deepen the kiss without waiting, slipping your tongue into his mouth. He tastes like cigarettes and vodka and it’s made all the more delicious by the little noises that keep working up his throat, elicited when you grab him by the belt and pull him closer so that you’re chest to chest. He groans when you sink your teeth into his bottom lip and pull away, tugging him with you by the mouth. When you release him, he still follows after you anyway, chasing you for more. 
Fingers still dancing on his belt, you smile. “Come up to my dorm with me?”
“Yes, fuck, please.” He already sounds debauched, and it sends a spike of heat straight down to your core. Felix would never deign himself to beg. 
You push open the door to the dorm building, and start up the stairs, Farleigh trailing only a half step behind you. You fumble with your keys once you reach the door to your room, and Farleigh latches onto the back of your neck, trailing kisses across the sensitive skin that send a shiver up your spine.
Once you get the door open, you drag him inside and kick it back shut, locking it behind you. 
Farleigh’s back on you in an instant, mouthing under your jaw. You wind a hand into his curls, pulling his head back from your neck. “Don’t leave any marks or Felix-”
He rolls his eyes, and cuts you off. “Duh.”
Without any more preamble he dives back into your neck, kissing along the length of it until he makes his way back up to your lips. You meet him in a kiss greedily, pushing off the door behind you and walking him back towards your bed. He hits the bedframe and breaks the kiss to sit on the edge. With a grin, you’re climbing into his lap and gently pushing him down until his backs flat against the mattress. 
He’s so pretty like this - curls splayed out across your duvet cover, hands gripping onto your hips like you’ll float away if he lets go. You run a hand under his shirt, rucking it up so that you can see the way his stomach flexes when you touch him. Slowly, you dip your head down to lick a trail up his abdomen, never breaking eye contact. 
He tips his head back with a shaky groan. “Oh, fuck.”
You grin, shifting forward so that you can nose under his jaw, lips ghosting across the shell of his ear. “What about you? Will India get mad if I-”
“Don’t fucking care, I want you to do it anyway.” He says, a little breathless. He’s so responsive - every little groan and whine shoots heat straight to your core. If sex with Felix was like this, maybe you wouldn’t have to pretend to be in love with him. 
You sink your teeth into his neck just below his ear and he keens, his hips knocking up into yours. His fingers dig into your hips, bunching the fabric of your skirt into his fists like he’s holding on for dear life. You take the opportunity to start the slow roll of your hips as you work a chain of hickeys across his neck, scattering them artfully around his collarbone. 
Deft fingers slip under the hem of your shirt, pushing it up your spine until you get the message and pull it off yourself, flinging it somewhere in your room. Farleigh wiggles out of his own shirt underneath you, pushing the offending garment off the edge of the bed. Freed of your shirt, you reach behind you to unclasp your bra as well, tossing it in the same direction. 
Farleigh’s eyes fall to your tits immediately, and you swear you can see his pupils dilate. “I see why Felix keeps you around-”
“Shut the fuck up.” You say with a smile. Even when you have him in your bed, he’s the same old Farleigh. It’s a breath of fresh air after having to pretend you like when Felix calls himself ‘daddy’. 
Your skirt is next, and then the tights you’d had on underneath it as Farleigh works on his trousers, kicking them off the end of the bed. Only your underwear left, you resume grinding against him, watching as his eyes flutter shut for a moment as he uses his grip on your hips to work you over him harder. 
“How do you want me?” You ask, leaning down to press more kisses along the length of his neck. 
You expect him to respond - to tell you to turn over on all fours or ride him reverse cowgirl - but he only sighs in the back of his throat. “Whatever you like, baby.” 
You press your lips to his in another greedy kiss, licking into his mouth and swallowing up the moans that slip past his lips. He’s not making it easy to think about going back to Felix after this. Felix, who calls himself ‘daddy’ and manhandles you around however he likes and hasn’t made you cum a single time. You can feel your wetness starting to seep into the fabric of your underwear from how malleable Farleigh is underneath you - how he looks at you like he’d gladly do anything you ask him to. 
You slip your fingers beneath the waistband of his boxers and shuck them down his legs. Your own underwear are next, and then you’re grinding on him again, spreading your wetness up and down his length. 
Farleigh’s grip tightens, and he tips his head back again. You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he moans. “Mm.” He picks his head back up enough so that he can look at you. “I was going to ask if you wanted me to go down on you but - mm - I don’t think you need it- oh fuck!”
Rising up on your knees, you line him up and slide down him in one drop of your hips, lodging him inside of you. He’s longer than Felix is, but skinnier too so the stretch doesn’t sting as much. God, it’s like he was made for you, with how easily he reaches right where you need him to without even trying. You start to bounce, planting your hands on his chest for leverage and tossing your head back, losing yourself in the feeling. 
Farleigh whines, a high pitched breathy thing that sounds like it’s been forced out of him as you start to move. Gently, you pry his hands away from your hips and pin them down over his head, just because he lets you do it. It’s a rush - that he’ll let you do whatever you want and take it happily - and it goes to your head. He strains against your grip but you don’t let up, working yourself up and down his cock just to watch his eyes roll up into his head. 
“What- ahh, what are you doing?” Farleigh chokes out, straining against your grip again. 
“Whatever I want.” You croon, whispering against his lips. 
He snags you in a kiss, sweeping his tongue into your mouth hungrily as he plants his feet on the mattress, thrusting so that his hips meet yours on every downstroke. A sharp gasp forces its way out of your throat as the coil in your stomach starts to tighten, and you can’t help but smile at him. It’s almost a novelty, the way he works with you instead of against you like Felix often does. 
He grins back up at you, and tilts his chin upward to kiss you again. Breathy, he says, “Felix is an idiot.”
You choke on a moan as a particularly hard thrust jolts through you. “Why’s that?”
“He doesn’t know what he has.” Farleigh says. “I’ve fucked India and - fuck - Annabel and they’ve got nothing on you.”
You laugh and moan at the same time. “You don’t have to - mm - be nice just so I’ll let you cum in me.”
“I can be nice.” He breathes. 
You ghost your lips over his neck. “You’re never nice.”
“I can be nice.” He insists, turning his head so that you can litter kisses along the length of his neck. You trail upwards until you reach the lobe of his ear, biting gently at the skin. “To you.”
“Careful.” You say. “Better stop now or I might think you’re in love with me or something-”
Farleigh tenses up beneath you, as a long groan escapes from his lips as he throws his head back. He thrusts three more times before he stills, slumping back down to the mattress, panting hard. His eyes flutter open, blown wide as he looks up at you. 
You can feel a smirk playing on your lips. “Did you just cum?”
He has the decency to look a little ashamed. “Maybe.”
You laugh, and kiss him. “Well, what are we supposed to do now?”
“I’m good.” He insists, working his wrists free of your hold. “I can still- here, just-”
He pulls you to his chest and rolls on the mattress so that you’re underneath him now, and resumes fucking into you, tucking his head into the crook of your neck. The change in position makes the feeling all the more potent, and a moan slips out from your lips. 
Winding your arms around his shoulders, you rake your nails up his back, and feel him shiver against you. “Farleigh…”
“Don’t fucking do that.” He laughs. “I’ll cum again.”
You toss your head back against the pillow as he speeds up his thrusts, obviously trying to get you to cum before he’s too spent to keep going. You let your eyes flutter shut and enjoy the feeling of him against you, the tickle of his curls against your neck, the breathy moans that slip from his lips into your ear, the feeling of his teeth against your neck as he sucks a hickey into your skin-
“Farleigh-” You start, only to cut yourself off as the coil finally snaps and pleasure shoots through you. “Oh fuck-”
He groans, and shoves his face deeper into your neck as his thrusts slow to a stop. He slumps again, flopping on top of you with a long sigh.
When you come back to your senses, you tug on his hair until he grumbles. “You are such a dick.” You say. “I said no marks.”
“Sorry.” He mumbles into your skin. 
“No you’re fucking not.” You retort. 
He lifts his head out of your neck, that foxlike grin on his face again. “No I’m not.”
“What am I supposed to do now?” You ask. 
He pulls out, and flops back down on the bed next to you, nosing back into the crook of your neck as he slings an arm over your chest. “Makeup. Wear your hair down.” He shrugs. “It’s Felix - he’ll probably think he did it.”
You rest your chin on the top of his head, the aftershocks of pleasure running through you. “‘M never having sex with you again.”
Farleigh snorts. “Yeah, okay.”
You smile into his hair, because he’s right. Of course he’s right. There’s no way in hell this isn’t going to become a regular occurrence. 
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patchpane · 2 months
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“The third text-to-speech is Elias!” “The third text-to-speech is Annabelle!” All good theories, I love it, and the voices have massive eye and/or web vibes (leaving out that the distribution of entities might be entirely different in the tmagp ‘verse) — but in the og casting announcement, Tim Fearon is listed as voicing the third glitched out character alongside Alex and Jonny, who we’ve never heard in Magnus before.
So if we assume that he is voicing Augustus, that means it’s a new voice.
Of course, there’s the option that it’s one of the new Big Bads for the series, and if so, I’m excited for when we get to meet them because evil text-to-speech program? Hell yes.
But but but!! Consider, please:
We never got to hear Jonah’s actual voice. We only ever hear Elias’s voice being used by Jonah.
So if Chester and Norris have jmart’s disembodied voices, Augustus could have Jonah’s, and it would be a voice we’ve never heard before
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14thgalerie · 2 months
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under pressure
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• pairing: theodore nott x reader
• now playing: linger by the cranberries
• word count: 2.4k
• genre: angst
— an old piece that i never finished but i just wanted to post something because my account is so dead. i know exams work differently in hogwarts but for this one, let's just pretend that they do a semestral exam also.
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“Theo?” You call from behind him, as you enter the common room where he sits in solitude. 
He makes no sound to acknowledge that he’s heard you, simply continuing to stare off into space. Long, slender fingers rhythmically tapping on his thighs.
Ignoring this, you make yourself comfortable on the nearest available seat, angling your body to face him. “You would not believe what I got for History of Magic!” You excitedly begin and with much enthusiasm, “But first you have to guess!”
Again, a silence greets you. This sparks concern in you since it was very unusual behaviour from him. But before you could ask, he emits a curious hum, still not looking directly at you. “What did you get?”
“You’re no fun.” You playfully jab at him, trying to lighten up the atmosphere. “Anyways! I got an Outstanding! Can you believe that?”
“It would’ve been hilarious if you hadn’t.” Is all he says in a deadpan, hollow voice. “What do you mean by that?” You prod.
“Imagine taking all of my time just for you to fail once again. I would have actually thrown myself off the pitch. ”
The muted glow of the scattered lamps and candles cast shadows on the walls, creating an ambiance that mirrors the strained emotions between you and Theo. The distant sound of chatter and laughter in the dorm rooms only served to accentuate the silence that ensued.
He sighs, “I am tired. Tired of your complaining, of your whines, of your stupidity over such a simple course. You are so excited over this when it isn’t something to be necessarily proud of. You know…” Theo trails off in an amused manner as if he has realised something funny.
“I find it funny how you are sitting all proud and excited about this one exam when in reality, it was all because of me. You wouldn’t have even gotten half of what you had if it weren't for me or with the help of the others. Leeching off of us like a goddamn parasite who hasn’t a mind of her own.”
Words fail you, unable to conjure up even a whisper in your shock. You stand up slowly, breathing out an unsteady exhale.
The words break on your skin like whips, cracking and splitting open still healing wounds. 
“I have never asked you for anything, need I remind you? You were the one who insisted on spending your oh so precious time teaching me. Time and time again, I reassured you that I could do it myself because I didn’t want you to waste it on me. Yet, it was always fine with you and you were adamant on doing it so don’t you dare put this on me now.” You grit out. “I have no idea as to why you are acting like a rabid dog, snapping at me unprovoked, but nothing will ever warrant that kind of behaviour. “ You shake your head sharply, glaring at him from underneath your eyebrow. 
You felt yourself becoming dizzy with panic and anxiety, confusion with the whole situation making it worse by the second. It was spreading so quickly and far into the recesses of your soul that you would fall to your knees if not for the support of the couch behind you.
Not willing to have him see you break down from his nonchalant words that were deliberately chosen to attack your deepest insecurities— unable to understand how it so easily came from the last person you expected it from. You quickly move towards the stairs, ignoring the weak call of your name. 
Tick, tock, tick, tock. 
Seconds—or was it minutes— slipped away since you have made the decision to lock yourself in your room. Leaving the room before everything gets worse. Surrounding yourself with a number of inked parchments that are filled with hundreds of thousands of words, none of which your brain registers. Despite your earnest desire to find solace with work, it was all futile as they were only mere words on paper that held no significance in comparison to what was brewing in your mind.
Instead, an incessant question pesters you. Was it really something to be so excited over? Lost in a silent deep rumination, accompanied only by the rhythmic flutter of an owl's wings as they flew past your open window and the rustling trees to occupy the silence. 
Tick, tock, tick, tock. 
The clock is still there to remind me of the hours that have passed— 3 and a quarter to be precise.
Perhaps you were being too over the top but you hadn’t meant to. The pure, unadulterated exhilaration overwhelmed you after Professor Binns called you aside after your last exam. It had become an accepted knowledge to you that History of Magic wasn’t necessarily your strongest suit. Enough so that it would’ve been perfectly fine for you to receive a less-than-average result.
To hear how exceptional you had done this time, possibly even greater than many of your classmates, your mind instinctively went to share your achievement with Theo. After all, he was the one who patiently dedicated hours guiding you in your review and it took precedence over his own. Assurances, that came off as more of arrogance, of how he would do just fine and that he could ace it even if he wore a blindfold.
Maybe that’s where it all went wrong. Could it have been the lack of sleep before? He does get a bit irritable with a lack of rest. You’ve seen it personally in the weeks that lead up to Quidditch games. The fatigue, in addition to the stress of the final exams before the holidays, must’ve steered him into that state. 
Despite feeling upset and somewhat finding fault within yourself, you couldn’t muster up the will to apologise first. While his behaviour tonight could have been explainable, for goodness’ sake, the way that he has gone about it was unwarranted— shouting and hurling the harshest words that he is capable of, at you. The person that rejected every offer, made by him, because you were scared to impose on his studying hours. Now he cannot even be happy at what you had worked so dedicatedly on with him?
After spending hours in the cold and dark room, doing nothing but ruminating on the argument, you realise that you refuse to allow his words to dampen your joy and excitement any more than they have already. Sitting up straight, you stretch your arms wide. Swiftly tidying the scattered papers and dried pens into an acceptable arrangement in your trunk before you settle down beneath your duvet cover. Giving up on the idea of getting any work done when your mind was elsewhere.
The both of you made plans to have a sleepover in your dorm room after your roommates announced that they would be spending the night elsewhere. However, it will be safe to say that the idea had crumbled into non-existence after the heated exchange of words between the two of you. 
As you lay there on your side, facing the stone wall with your back to the door, you couldn’t help but reflect on your argument. A hailing storm brewed in the furrows of your mind, unable to piece together what exactly you should do. The only thing you wanted was to hear his beating heart beneath you as you lay on his chest. But you knew that it wouldn’t be right for yourself to concede.
Of all the ways that you’ve imagined for him to react, what had truly occurred did not even appear in your mind. It left you tossing and turning in frustration and confusion, unable to fall asleep in peace. Only the warmth and lasting scent of his cologne on your duvet keep you calm— the realisation that you couldn’t even properly be mad at him makes you huff.
In the silent war within you, you were deaf to the aged door groaning in protest as its rusty hinges emitted a creaking sound that left the person behind it wincing. Nor did you hear the unusually gentle footsteps that followed.
So much so that even the shadows that lurked within the walls would have thought that the footsteps were a figment of their imagination. In the way that the presence hesitated outside of your room as if they were heavily contemplating.
It was only at the weighted dip of the bed behind you and the hesitant arm that crept around your waist that were you pulled from your trance. Yet, you bore no intent of recognition for him even as he had fully suited himself behind you with his chin tucked in the crook of your neck.
As his presence enveloped you, he began with a slight tremor in his voice. “Y/N…I-“
“I could write and speak a thousand sorry’s and reasons for why the words had so easily slipped from my lips, but they will never unspeak them from existence. I promised your mama that I will never let a speck of hurt flash across those eyes, and I will forever apologise to her for breaking that promise.” A shaky exhale lines the last few syllables. “I was so unnecessarily horrible and mean to you without meaning to. So consumed by this- this emotion that flooded me, something that I had lost control over.”
Every syllable was accompanied by a hesitant tone that left the words sounding shaky; nervous. Coupled with the drop of tears that lined your neck right where his head sat.
You listened, listening to his apology, but the wounds were still fresh. The echo of his sharp words runs deep beneath your skin, embedded into your bones, prickling with every second you are reminded of them. The sincerity in his voice clashed with the pain he had caused with his words, leaving you torn between the desire to understand and the reluctance to let go of the hurt.
“You really hurt my feelings, Theo.” If he wasn’t already drowning in misery, hearing his name fall from your lips after he worked many weeks to be called something else had him gasping for breath. “I genuinely want to forgive you, but at this moment, I can’t quite find it in me to do so. You blew up on me for absolutely no reason. I need you to help me understand, to give me a reason behind your outburst, not mere words of guilt. Because even if you say sorry a thousand times, I would never be able to forgive you for clearly attacking me where I would greatly feel it.
His voice, meek in the tense air between the two of you, unfolded with a raw honesty that lays bare his desperation for this to be over.
“The exhaustion from lack of sleep and finding that I barely got a passing grade…It was a bit too much for me. I have no idea why it even bothered me when, for so long, I could hardly give a damn about these stupid exams," he shared, sighing with exasperation.
A pang of guilt and shame flared within your chest at the knowledge. The initial shadow of hesitation and guilt that crept on you the days before came rushing back in. You should’ve known better than to allow him to persuade you. Turning around on the bed to face him. But before you could wallow yourself in these emotions, Theo quickly puts your mind to rest.
“Don’t blame yourself, darling.” He tenderly pushes a thumb against the forming frown on your forehead. “I should have told you that I needed to study also instead of leaving it to luck. I guess I was being a bit of a confident prick that got used to not reviewing for an exam that I fully forgot I missed a few lectures a few weeks ago. I truthfully never had and never will blame you, not when I had been the one, adamant enough, to help you out despite your protests.”
His admission carried a mix of self-awareness and remorse. The vulnerability that was clear in his words began to bridge the hesitance inside of you to relax, the layers of miscommunication slowly peeling away. 
You could sense the weight he carried. Despite his casual indifference to his studies, you knew that it was something that he silently prided himself in. To have that be ruined in addition to the cumulative stress that built up over time with his hectic schedule. Being reminded that even if he may seem so perfect on the surface, beneath that, he was still human; flawed, vulnerable, and young. Although the hurt had begun to shift, not fully dissipating yet, it had turned into a sense of empathy that allowed you a clarity of thinking.
A small, understanding hum escaped you. The strain in your voice is gone now, ”We need to work on our communication, then. No longer hiding things from each other for any reason, even if we think it does not matter. Part of our relationship is to work our problems side by side, even if it doesn’t concern the other. We shouldn’t have things fester until it explodes on us.” 
He nods, burying his head back into the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you.” You gently pull his head back and look at him fondly. “And we need to also address the way you spoke to me earlier. Just because we were in the heat of the moment and lost in our emotions does not mean you have the right to do that, not when my mom raised me without raising her voice.”
“I’m really sorry. Merlin…I can still see the look on your face and I don’t think I would ever forget and forgive myself for being the reason behind it”. “I won’t say I forgive you just yet, that’s a boundary crossed for me. We should’ve had this talk in the beginning but better now than never. Let’s take a pause for now, and resume this conversation with a clear head.” He met your gaze with a blend of appreciation and a sense of resolve. 
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masterlist
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xhoneygirlxx · 7 months
Text
Watermelon Sugar
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Eddie Munson x Fem Reader
summary: Eddie shows you the eight wonder of the world. his mouth.
warnings: reader and eddie are 18+, established relationship, fluff, Eddie being a munch. nicknames/pet names used (baby, honey, sweetheart, etc.) MINORS DNI 18+ smut: fem oral receiving, blowjobs mentioned, talks of past sexual experiences, praise/body worship, swearing. *Skin Color/Ethnicity not mentioned! not proofread, spelling errors and horrible writing.
if I miss anything plz lmk!
a/n: hello my loves! thank you all for the kind words and reactions on my last couple of posts! as you all know smut is not my forte but I felt the need to write this. am I projecting??? maybe but we’re gonna pretend that i'm not :)
The low hum of Steve Nicks’ voice plays through Eddie’s room, the soundtrack of your makeout session with your boyfriend. Orange glow from the late afternoon sun comes through the window, an angelic glow casting around the frizz of the mentalhead’s hair.
It started as an innocent day, hanging out together in a comfortable silence in his room. Him doodling in his notebook and you flipping through one of his old comic books. Somewhere along the way a featherlight touch turned into shared giggles, sitting in his lap turned into a chaste kiss, and it ended up with him in between your parted knees, kissing like his life depended on it.
A curtain of curls block out the skylight, tender lips on yours like melted honey, and big hands roaming down the expanse of your body. When Eddie moves away from your mouth, he takes the oxygen from your lungs with him and you whimper at the loss.
"Gonna let me have a taste of you, pretty girl?" Big doe eyes shine down to you, way too eager and excited. Your stomach twists into knots, the training you put yourself through in case of this moment, has all been for nothing. What do you say to the man that hovers over you with so much love in his eyes?
"How about I suck you off instead, hmm?" You try to come off as sensual but instead you sound scared.
It's an offer that you've made so many times over the short course of your relationship with Eddie. This was your first real relationship besides the eight grade love affair you had with Simon Willard. That only lasted a week.
You weren't anywhere near a virgin, that so called sacred part of yourself is now in the possession of a random boy you met on vacation before your senior year. Hookups weren't uncommon to you but what was uncommon to you was the affection you received during the sex.
People you've hooked up with never really cared to get you nice and ready the way Eddie does, prepping you with two or more fingers, working you open so that it doesn't hurt going in. Guys didn't care if you got off or not, they were just looking for a hole to fill and someone who wouldn't get clingy.
You had guy friends, including Eddie before you started dating, and you heard the horror stories they had of going down on a girl. It was never in mean spirit, although the discussion should've stayed in the bedroom, but it still scared you shitless. How one girl didn't properly take care of herself, causing the smell to be rancid. This girl didn't wipe the right way, leaving scraps of toilet paper down there. And the one that really settled itself into your brain, was how good or bad a girl tasted.
Of course you, and all of your guy friends, knew that girls didn't taste like ice cream, or strawberries, or candy. It was made up, another bullshit beauty standard for woman to worry about.
You had paid attention to the way guys would ask you if you wanted it done. The way they would sigh and roll their eyes like it was the biggest task of their lives. You would end up telling them that you're more of a giver than receiver, and that you just weren't interested in that whole thing. When they would release a breath of relief you would fill with shame, almost like you were the one who requested it to be done and had been turned down. The embarrassment of rejection you didn't even ask for.
So when you and Eddie first had sex as boyfriend and girlfriend, you made it your mission to never let that horrid question come from his mouth. You always made sure to offer him head first, and if it looked like he was about to ask, you'd simply tell him you couldn't wait anymore.
Now here you are, under him, ready and willing to take him in your mouth, and he's gotten the question out before you could beat him to the punch.
"Ya know I will never say no to that, sweetheart. But-"
Uh oh. That's the word that comes before a life or death sentence. It's hanging heavy over you, the once comfortable silence is now killing you. Squeezing all of the air out of your body, limbs going numb with the loss of circulation, all the while your ears ring like an explosion has gone off.
"I want to return the favor." It's so sincere when he says it and it makes you want to cry. A boyish smile taking over his mouth, deep dimples appearing on the fat of his cheeks.
You must look like you've seen a ghost because the pretty smile that was written on his face is now taken over by worry.
"I mean, I don't have to. It's just- I feel like," Eddie's a panicked mess, backing his face further away from your own. The small bubble of love that the two of you created has now been popped with your own doubts and fears.
"I don't want to make you uncomfortable, I just thought I could make you feel good s'all." The confident man that you know all too well is now reduced to a fumbling and anxious person. His fingers work at the chunky silver ring on his finger, twisting and twisting and twisting it around.
"You just always, I don't know. It just always seems like you never ask for head and I just wanted to offer it to you, I guess."
The whiskey eyes that never left your gaze won't even look at you anymore. Focusing on that damn ring that goes faster and faster the longer you wait to respond. You want to run and hide. Dig a deep hole and never come out. Your lovely boyfriend who's done nothing but treat you like the queen of the goddamn universe, now thinks he's made you uncomfortable.
Embarrassment rushes through your veins, throat closing with the grip of shame making it harder to breathe. Tears prick your eyes, hot and heavy, ready to fall at the drop of a dime. You feel so guilty for not just telling him the truth, for not saying all the concerns that you had. Even before you started dating Eddie always confided in you, telling you the deepest secrets that kept him up at night and you couldn't even tell him this one thing.
"I'm embarrassed." It comes out in a sniffle, lip wobbling beneath the teeth that hold it down, trying to make it go away.
"I'm just embarrassed I won't be good. That I'll be another conversation for you and the boys to drink to. Will I taste good? Do I smell weird? Does it look pretty? All of these questions circle my brain and I'm so fucking scared that you won't like me anymore." It comes out like word vomit, so fast and uneven in tone that you're not sure if it even made sense.
You don't have time to think it over anyway, Eddie's too quick putting his hands on your cheeks, gently making you look up at him. The same kind eyes that you always see meet yours. Thumbs gentle swipe the fat tears off of your face, his cold hands extinguish the flames of your skin.
"Honey, I promise you I would never, ever do some dumb shit like that. What the guys and I talk about is irrelevant, half the time they don't even know what they're talking about. I felt the same way when you wanted to suck me off the first time, every single question you ask yourself is what I ask myself." Eddie's eyes are searching yours, looking and waiting to see the dread leave your head.
"Like I said before, I would never want you to be uncomfortable but if you're okay with it, I'd really," He places a gentle kiss on your forehead, "really," he continues to place more delicate kisses around your face, "really love to make you feel so fucking good."
When he's done, he looks back down to you with a dopey smile, he's low and hazy drunk off of you. A smile tugs on your own lips, so warm and fuzzy off of him. You know he means it and you feel sad that you even questioned him. Childish laughter rings out between the two of you when he pinches your sides, tickling out the stiffness in your body.
When the laughter dies down, he asks you again by cocking his eyebrow up in question. Nodding your head, you give him a confident yes, something you didn't feel the first time he asked.
Moving down your body, trails of kisses are left on your skin, mapping out his journey to your center. When he reaches the hem of your pants, he looks up to you once more waiting for a reply. Encouraging him to go further, his chilled fingers douses the warmth radiating off of you.
Leaving you only in your polka dot designed panties, Eddie teases you by running his fingers up and down your thighs.
"I gotta say bub, I love the pink dots. Top notch fashion if I don't say so myself." Eddie jokes and it makes you giggle. Swatting lightly at him, he returns the laughter.
"I'm not lying, I swear! If only you know what you do to me." As much of a joker Eddie is, he was never one to joke about your beauty. He found everything you did, said, and wore so fucking breathtaking and flawless, he'd probably get hard from the sight of you in a Tin Man costume.
"If you, at any time, want me to stop just tell me. I won't get mad, just let me know, okay?" Eyebrows scrunched with seriousness, Eddie makes sure to be loud and clear with his instructions.
"I promise, Eds." You say and he takes that as the green light.
Eddie's index finger teases your cloth slit, running up and down so slowly it feels like torture. When you lift your hips looking for more friction he snorts lightly.
"Patience, my love." His fingers continue to dance over your panties, running back to the top of the band and pulling them down in a swift motion.
When the cool air hits your wet seat, you whimper slightly at the feeling. Eddie has seen your pussy multiple times, but when he spreads it with his fingers, you can't help but feel shy, closing your legs around his arm.
"Don't go shy on me, baby. I just wanna see the prettiest picture I've ever seen." His eyes are still trained on the glistening of your sex, glimmering like bright pools of water.
It feels like an hour of no movement from Eddie before he goes to change his position between your legs. Shuffling back on his knees, he picks your thighs up to place on his shoulders as he lays on his stomach.
Still having doubts, you lean up on your elbows, watching your boyfriend to see what his reaction is. To your surprise, he looks like a kid in a candy store, awe and wonder swimming around in the big brown pools of his eyes.
When an obscene sniff rings through the air, you can't help but cringe a little. Waiting for him to look repulsed, you're again astonished when all your met with is a feral look.
Very tentatively, he runs his flat tongue from your hole to the top of your clit. Moaning deeply, he moves his gave up to you. A smirk breaks out on his features, so devilishly and mischievously.
"Oh baby, you have no fucking clue how good you taste." There is no questioning in his cadence. It's smug and cocky and it makes you shiver with need.
Repeating his motions from before, you mewl at the feeling, lifting your hips again. The chuckle that comes from Eddie vibrates off of you, make you move you squirm. Reaching his strong hands around your thighs, he holds you in place with his firm grip.
When the wet muscle breaches your needy hole, you fall back onto the bed moaning out in pleasure. He works your open with it, flicking it in and out efficiently.
Pulling out of you, he moves up to your bundle of nerves. Starting slowly, he circles around once or twice, before working it in figure eights.
You melt into the bed like a popsicle on a hot summers day. There's not a single thought in your head other than the feeling of his mouth. You're a livewire come to life, so sensitive and lost in the haze of pleasure.
You think this is the precipice of ecstasy but then one of his thick fingers enter you and his mouth sucks hard on your pulsing clit.
It feels like fireworks on the fourth of July, bright and explosive, big loud bangs ringing out into the night sky. It's like the feeling of going down the big drop on a rollercoaster, tingling deep in your belly and a rush of adrenaline pumping through your veins. It's like winning first place, heartwarming and shocking all at the same time.
You feel all these things at the same time, every single one of them caused by the actions of your boyfriends mouth. It's overwhelming and so fucking delicious but you can't say anything than cry out in bliss.
Letting go of your clit with a pop, Eddie's head pokes up at you like an excited puppy. "S'it feel good baby?" You want to answer, you really do but the way he sneaks a second finger into you and crooks them at the perfect angle makes you lose all motor skills.
"Awe, honey" he coos mockingly, "Is it that good?"
"S'good Eds, so good." You're a blubbering, crying mess. So hooked on the feeling of him, hooking on the feeling of how he made you feel.
He doesn't say anything else, too busy pushing his face back between your legs. His motions go faster, fingers hitting that sweet spot inside of you that he only managed to find, his mouth switching between motions, driving you closer to the edge as he does.
The string in your belly is pulling tighter and tighter, barley hanging together by a thread. You're a thrashing, sweaty mess on his bed, gripping the pillow underneath your head that your knuckles will probably be stuck in that position. You don't care, not when he's moving his head back and forth, slurping up your wetness like a handmade milkshake.
It's filthy, down right dirty the way it sounds. The noises that carry out into his room echo so loud the neighbors could probably hear. The squelch of your wetness being pounded into by his hand, the way he's drinking you up like a dehydrated plant, the moans that escape out of your parted lips.
"Eddie, please. FUCK, please." You're blathering at him, not even sure at what you're asking for.
Separating himself from you again, he continues working his fingers deep into you.
"You wanna cum, pretty girl? S'that it? Wanna cum all over my fingers?" You moan louder in response, clenching around him harder as you do.
"Go ahead, be a good good and cum for me. Come on, honey. Cum for me." That's all you need to hear before you're hurtling off the edge of your release.
You release with a silent cry, all the air being punched right out of you. Your body feels weightless, like you were thrown up into the clouds and not being able to come down.
Your whole body shakes, tears streaming down your face, all while your hole pulses and quivers around Eddie's fingers. A gush of wetness coats his fingers, a big puddle under your ass, leaving another stain on his bed seats.
He watches in awe as you hit your peak, how your back arches off of the bed and how you look so fucking perfect like this. The shy girl that never got experience this kind joy, now swims in the ocean of euphoria of the climax. He feels so lucky to witness this, to be the first and last person to ever see you this vulnerable.
Eddie wishes he could paint this moment, make a portrait of the way your kiss bitten lips form the perfect O, make the brushstrokes of your hair and some of it sticks to your sweaty face. You're so beautiful and he doesn't know how blessed to be yours.
When you float back down to earth, to the springy mattress of Eddie's, you take a moment to catch your breath. When he removes his fingers from you, you weakly hiss from movement and he offers a quiet sorry.
Moving back up to his knees, he hovers over you and smiles brightly down at you. Smiling weakly back at you, he uses the hand that's not supporting his weight to place it on your jaw. His thumb brushes back and forth and you melt right into it.
"How was that?" Pink tints his cheeks, grinning ear to ear.
You chuckle weakly, shaking your head in disbelief.
"I think I went to outer space for a second there."
A booming laugh leaves his chest and it makes you smile even harder. Your heart feels so full and so happy. You're so in love with him and it makes you delirious. You want to see him like this for the rest of your life, big smiles and even big laughter, so pretty and delicate only for you.
"Well I'm glad you enjoyed yourself there, space cadet." Leaning down to press his lips to yours, your soak in the feeling of it. When he moves away you pout at him, and he bops you on the nose with his finger.
"I was thinkin' I could return the favor, big boy." You whisper seductively.
"Oh baby, that sounds wonderful but-," He makes eye contact with you, "I need to be in you like yesterday because that, right there was the hottest thing I've ever witness."
"I happen to be a romantic. So I shall wait until my fair maiden is okay to resume our activities." Closing his eyes with pride, he places a hand on his heart.
Hiding your face with your hands, you bust out laughing at his little antics and when you peek between his fingers you see his teeth flashing back at you. Removing your hands from your face, you tuck a loose tendril behind his ear.
"You're a dork, but that sounds good to me."
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Thank you all for reading! I loves you all and hope you enjoyed!!!
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calumh0od · 1 year
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FEELINGS - j. champion
You and Jack met during the chemistry reads for Scream VI. It was obvious that, from the beginning, you two were close. Your personalities went well together and everyone saw your obvious chemistry. The chemistry really helped, seeing as your characters were love interests. As time went on, you began to see Jack differently and he the same. And maybe, unlike your characters, the two of you would have a happy ending.
Filming for Scream VI was slowly coming to an end. You heard someone say that you only had about 2 weeks of filming left before everything wrapped.
It was bittersweet.
Occasionally, you'd find yourself reminiscing about all of the friendships and memories you've made this summer. Something about your castmates just made the whole filming process all the more better. Especially since this was your first real project.
The directors were taking a chance with you, hiring a newcomer was a risky move. But needless to say, they believed they made the right choice. You were a phenomenal actor.
"Earth go, Y/N." Jasmine was waving her hand in front of your face, bringing your attention back to the 4 sitting around you.
You, Melissa, Jenna, Devyn, Liana, and Jenna all sat in a circle in the grass. A break had been announced while they worked out some kinks in a scene and they let you all just chill together.
"Hmm?"
Devyn reached over and squeezed your hand, smiling sweetly at you. "We're rating our castmates 'cause we're bored."
She was the sweetest, just like her character.
"And it's time to rate Mason, and I don't plan on rating him because he's like my brother and that's weird." Jasmine laughed, earning laughs from the group.
You shrugged, "7.5?"
Most nodded, except for Jenna who scoffed and called out the number 4. Her response only elicited a fit of laughter from the group. Jenna loved picking on Mason, it was one of her favorite pastimes.
"Oooh, i've got one." Melissa clapped her hands in excitement. "Y/N, rate Jack."
You swallowed harshly. Suddenly very thankful that the boys weren't around instead of being mopey like you had been before. You actually had been wishing that Jack... and Mason were there. But now that they'd asked that? Their absence was actually a blessing.
"3."
Jack was your best friend.
"Bullshit!" Liana yelled.
She was right, you'd lied straight through your teeth. You'd met Jack while doing chemistry reads months ago. Your characters played love interests so you'd gotten to meet the boy before the rest of the cast so the directors could ensure the two of you had believable chemistry.
"Um." you mumbled, you'd actually fallen for him as time passed.
When you got to set in June you thought the constant butterflies in your stomach were from being excited and nervous to film. It wasn't until a week or two later and you were grabbing lunch alone with Jack that you realized that the butterflies only showed up when you were in his presence.
Jenna playfully pushed you by the arm, "C'mon, tell us the real answer."
You hated how they knew about your real feelings. You had never admitted them, though. So, their knowledge was pure speculation at this point.
"10." you'd said it almost too quiet for them to hear.
But when they erupted in screams and Devyn tackled you in a hug, you knew they'd heard you.
"No one can tell him! He definitely only sees me as a friend and i'm not ruining the friendship." you instructed from your spot below Devyn.
They all agreed to not tell, but also told you that you were wrong. Apparently they knew that your feelings weren't 1 sided.
"Who likes who?"
You all froze.
It was the familiar voice of Jack that made your stomach drop. Devyn crawled off of you, helping you sit up. You couldn't bare to look at Jack. You were sure your cheeks were bright red and he'd know immediately.
"Chad likes Tara." Jenna blurted, attempting to get Jack off the topic.
The grass looked very interesting all of a sudden.
"Well, I knew that. That's boring." he scoffed.
You mentally cursed when he sat down next to you on the grass, his knee bumping with yours. It took everything in you to not look at him still. Jack was your best friend after all, his brown eyes always brightened your day.
"Jackson, wanna play our game?" Jasmine broke the silence.
Your eyes snapped to Jasmine's, she wouldn't.
You looked around the circle, realizing that all of the girls had smirks on their lips. They knew what Jasmine was up to.
"Sure?" he laughed nervously.
Jasmine rubbed her hands together, never looking back at you. "We're rating our castmates, so, rate Y/N."
"Easy, 10."
What?
You looked right at him as all of the girls went crazy. Did he say what you thought he did?
He wouldn't look at you though, his cheeks burning crimson. You couldn't tell the reason behind the blushing, though, sometimes Jack would blush when he had too much attention on him.
But it still made you sick that he wouldn't look at you.
"I don't feel good." you mumbled, jumping up and running off.
Jack was oblivious though.
While you were basically dry heaving in your trailer, he had texted and wished for you to feel better and to ask if you were still on for your movie night. You sighed, actually thankful that he didn't get the hint as to why Jasmine had asked or why you ran off and simply texted a "thank you, and yes."
The Jasmine texted, checking on you and apologizing for asking Jack. Even adding the disclaimer about how at least he thought you were a 10. You forgave her and told here there were no hard feelings. It was just a simple game.
A few hours later and you had all returned to your apartments for the night.
You were freshly showered with your hair in two braids down your back, body clad in pajamas. Your pajamas consisted of a pair of boy's boxers and a tshirt Jack had given you of his. The two of you were at his apartment one night and you saw an avatar shirt he had on the arm of his couch and you had geeked out over it. In that moment, Jack knew he had to give it to you.
The shirt had brought you more joy than it probably ever would him, and he'd definitely smile every time he saw you in it.
"Knock, knock!" Jack called out as he walked in using the key you'd given him in case you lost yours — well that and you didn't want to have to let him in every time he came over.
He held up a bag of takeout, "I still got the tacos in case you were hungry. Feeling better?"
You nodded, walking over and taking the bag from his hand, leading him to the kitchen.
"I don't know what happened." you lied, taking the containers out of the bag. "But i'm much better now."
The two of your stood in the kitchen eating your tacos. For some reason, every time Jack came over he'd bring tacos from this place you two had found at the beginning of filming. You'd stand around in the kitchen and chow done, catching up on any time spent apart before eventually finishing and going to watch your movie of choice.
"Do you mind if we watch in my room? I'm exhausted." you sold your story by yawning.
You were telling the truth, you were absolutely wiped today. Jack shrugged, lunging toward you and picked you up. You let out a scream of surprise as he carried you, walking you back to your bedroom.
He carefully sat you down on the covers and let you crawl into your spot while he took his shoes off. Without hesitation, he crawled in next to you, propping himself against the headrest.
Your heart started beating closer at your proximity. You tried to ignore it be cueing up the movie, Scream (2022) tonight. The two of you had been on a Scream kick lately.
"This one's gonna be weird to watch since we know these weirdos in real life." Jack chuckled, getting more comfortable, which only brought him closer to you.
Was that on purpose?
You couldn't tell.
As the movie went on, you suddenly became super aware of how close the two of you were sitting. Your head was only inches from Jack's shoulder, so you gave in, letting your head fall onto him.
You'd done this countless times before, but this time felt different. You could've sworn you heard Jack breathe in sharply.
A couple minutes passed before you felt something touching your hand under the covers. You focused for a second before realizing that Jack was tapping the back of your hand with his fingers. Without thinking, you flipped your hand so your palm was up, Jack quickly intertwining his fingers with yours now.
You'd never been more thankful that it was dark, because he wouldn't be able to see how red your cheeks were now.
You got more comfortable, enjoying both the movie and Jack rubbing the back of your hand with the pad of his thumb. Once again, he'd held your hand before, but this time felt different.
Your mind was going crazy and so were all the butterflies in your stomach. Oh what this boy did to you.
You'd met him about a month after you had turned 17, about a week before Christmas. His birthday about a month prior to that. The two of you had bonded over being "late 2004 babies" and the rest of your friendship was history.
But what if it changes tonight?
Jack squeezed your hand.
You lifted your head, looking to him, your hands staying connected. Jack had a different look on his face, once that you'd only ever seen when he was playing Ethan and he was looking at you. This was a look you'd seen Jack portray when looking at his girlfriend.
But this time the look felt entirely genuine.
"J?" you questioned quietly when you noticed his eyes flickering to different places around your face, one of them being your lips.
It was like you were nervous.
Almost questioning if this was real.
Jack didn't say anything, instead he ducked his head and connected his lips with yours. You gasped slightly, not expecting his abruptness.
But you didn't hesitate to kiss back.
Sure, you'd kissed before while acting, but this right here? This was real. This was Jack and Y/N. Not Ethan and Y/C/N.
Your free hand held the back of his neck, fingers fiddling with the curls at the nape of his neck. Jack smiled into the kiss and you swore you almost lost all composure.
How could he be so cute?
His hand broke free of yours and you faltered for a second. Only regaining your composure when you felt his hands grips your hips to pull you on top of him. You forgot how strong he was.
Jack's hands stayed on your hips while your hand not on the back of his neck decided to rest on his chest. You hadn't realize how toned he was and you could definitely feel the muscle under his tshirt.
He pulled away, letting you sit up slightly as you both goofily smiled at each other. "I'm assuming this is okay since you so willing let me pull you onto my lap?" Jack raised an eyebrow, the slightest smirk playing on his lips.
You couldn't help but peck his lips, heart fluttering when you saw his smirk falter into a pout when you pulled away so quickly.
"I mean, we both rated each other 10s earlier and i'm pretty sure i've liked you for a couple months now."
He seemed proud of himself, the cutest smile now on his lips. "Good, good. Glad I didn't read the signs wrong and ruin the friendship."
"That'd be awful."
You hand slid around from the back of his neck and up to his cheek, your thumb rubbing over his cheekbone. You couldn't help but admire him.
You've done that time and time again. But never this close or with these feelings.
He was looking at you the same way. His hands had found their way underneath your shirt, sitting on your bare waist and thumbs caressing the soft skin underneath them.
"Kiss me again, your lips are addicting." he mumbled, his voice quiet from being mesmerized by the situation he'd found himself in.
You happily obliged.
You quickly leaned in and connected your lips, both of you moving together in sync. It was like your lips were created to be together.
Jack's hands stayed put, never once wandering. And same for you. The two of you were content with doing exactly what you were doing. Maybe the rest will come a different day.
"Stay over tonight?" you mumbled against his lips.
You felt him nod, "I'd like that."
You were ecstatic. The thought of falling asleep in Jack's arms had you beyond excited. He always made you feel safe, so you had a feeling you'd sleep like a baby tonight.
"Good, good." You let a finger lightly trace his jawline, down his neck, down his chest, and then stopping when you left your hand to rest in his lap.
Jack caught you hand, breaking the kiss and looking you dead in the eye, his eyes wider than usual. "I'm going to need you to not do that again, because i'm really trying to be respectful and only kiss you tonight and that's not helping."
Your cheeks burned red, "Oh." You patted his chest, "Then let's stop this for now and finish the movie."
You crawled off of him, Jack saying something about how that was a good idea before kissing you quickly once more. You tucked your body into his once more, except now your head was rested on his chest and his arm fell lazily around your body.
You could get used to this.
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the-offside-rule · 1 month
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Oscar Piastri (McLaren) - Surprise
Just some Valentines oneshots I have been writing
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Oscar Piastri gently stroked Y/n's hair as she slept peacefully. The room was still dim, the soft glow of dawn peeking through the curtains. He leaned closer, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face, his heart swelling with affection.
"Y/n," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. "Wake up, sleepyhead."
Y/n stirred, blinking her eyes open slowly. "Oscar? What time is it?" she mumbled, her voice husky with sleep.
"It's early, but I have a surprise for you," Oscar said, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
Y/n rubbed her eyes and sat up, her curiosity piqued. "What's the surprise?" Oscar chuckled. "Now, I know I have to head to thr MTC because of the launch, but I wanted to spend some Valentine's magic with you before I go." Y/n's eyes widened with realization. "Didn't you guys already hard launch the car in like January?" She said into the pillow. "I- no! That- Babe the car launch is today." Y/n turned her head, looking up at her boyfriend looking very handsome as per usual.
Y/n sat up, leaning on her elbows to see what Oscar had for her. Be pulled out a small box. "Happy Valentine's Day, love." Curious, Y/n unwrapped the box to find a delicate piece of jewelry. "Oscar, it's beautiful. Thank you!" He grinned. "Glad you like it. Now, let's enjoy a quick breakfast together before I have to dash." He lifted Y/n up out of the bed, earning a squeal from her in doing so. "Put me down!" She giggled. "Good idea. I think it'd be a better idea that you followed me out." He set her down, and held her hands. With a mixture of curiosity and anticipation, Y/n followed Oscar out of the bedroom and into the living room. The faint light of dawn cast a warm glow over the space as Oscar led her to the window.
"Close your eyes." He instructed gently. Y/n complied, feeling a flutter of excitement in her chest. She heard the soft rustle of fabric as Oscar positioned something behind her. "Okay, now open!" He said. Y/n opened her eyes to find herself facing a small table adorned with a bouquet of roses, a box of chocolates, and a handwritten note that read; Happy Valentine's Day, my love. "Oh Oscar." Oscar smiled as he stood beside her, kissing her cheek. "You shouldn't have."
"Only the best for you, babe. Now, breakfast-" He paused, heading over to the kitchen counter and pulling out a McDonald's bag. "I went and got McMuffins and coffee." Y/n laughed. "All because you can't cook." She walked over to her boyfriend kissed him gently, her eyebrows soon knotting in confusion. "What?" Oscar asked. "You ate a McMuffin already, didn't you?"
"Maybe." He mumbled. As they sat side by side, sharing a simple breakfast, Oscar couldn't help but steal glances at Y/n. "You make waking up early worthwhile, you know?" Y/n said. "Well, you're not so bad yourself." He chuckled, finishing his food. "I hate leaving you, especially on Valentine's Day, but duty calls." Oscar stood up, grabbing his McLaren jacket and heading for the door as Y/n followed him. Y/n gave him a reassuring smile. "It's okay, Oscar. You go on and we'll celebrate properly when you're back." She winked. Oscar smirked before kissing her gently. "I promise. I'll make it up to you. Happy Valentine's Day, my love."
And with that, he left, leaving Y/n to plan her own little Valentine's surprise for Oscar.
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wanderingxiao · 3 months
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Christmas Miracle!
Husband! Scaramouche x Pregnant! Reader *NSFW*
Warnings: unprotected sex, explicit language, pregnancy/lactation kink, slight degradation/praise, and just mainly smut with fluff 💜
A/N: Merry Christmas!!! This is shit but hope you enjoy a little! ;)
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Scaramouche scoffed lightly looking over the glittering Christmas decorations that filled your shared living room. The tree was decorated with cute figures of Santa, reindeer, pictures of the two of you, and a cute little picture hanging near the top of the tree, a small shape barely visible from the black and white picturing in the sonogram image.
“Scara, it’s Christmas, loosen up a little.” Your husband only snickered in reply, his body turning towards the sound of your voice, his indigo eyes darting down to the disgustingly sweet plate of cookies in your hand. “A holiday, celebrating some fat man with a beard. Is this really how you were raised?” You rolled your eyes a little, shaking your head as you approached him. “That’s not all the holiday is, you know that.”
He huffed quietly, his eyes softening a bit once his hands instinctively found your swollen stomach when you approached. “Tsk, whatever… how are you holding up?” His cheeks dusted faintly in pink, caressing your stomach while you munched away at your cookies. “Mmm, the cravings are like, fucking awful, but other than the backaches and constant arousal, pretty good!”
Scaramouche perked up slightly when he heard the last bit of your complaint. He couldn’t help but feel a warmth blossom in his stomach, his eyes darkening. “Hmph, can’t even control your hormones, huh? Sounds like a sorry attempt at trying to seduce me.” The edges of his lips curled slightly, giving you a dangerous look while your mouth continued to be stuffed with cookies.
“Mmm! Mo ‘m serous!” A smile quirked to Scaramouche’s lips, his expression softening watching you clear your throat and swallow down your cookies. “I was watching my show yesterday and just the love around the couple…” Your voice trailed off, voice starting to crack. The now empty plate rested against your stomach, your hand coming to your teary eyes. “I-it was so beautiful a-and it reminded me of us! A-And I then I got horny t-thinking about you being a father! A-And our familyyyy! Uwah!”
Scaramouche cringed when your face turned into a sobbing mess. “H-Hey. Don’t cry. You’re ugly when you cry.” His smooth and warm hands wiped your tears, his eyes awkwardly averting at the situation. Your cries soon died down and you laid with your husband snuggled against the couch. “Tsk, you done now brat?” He smirked and kissed your head. “Your hormones are quite the nuisance. Can’t wait til the little shit is out…”
“Awe, are you excited?” You looked up to him knowingly, your smile evident. He only scoffed. “Of course not. I don’t like children.” You only rolled your eyes, he could lie all he wanted, the truth was always in his expressions. Your cheeks flushed, heat building between your legs. Your thighs rubbed together, your eyes casting down to the way his hand laid protectively against your belly. “Uhm… hey… Scara?”
“Mhm?” He hummed in response, his head leaning back against the couch, his eyes closing. “There’s a present I would like to open early.” Your husband opened one of his eyes, sparing you a glance questioningly. You took a small breath, moving slightly as your leg swung over his hips, trapping him between your legs. His eyes were fully open now, his attention fully on you. “Can you… give it to me?”
Scaramouche’s eyes widened briefly, his heart beginning to pound. The look in your eyes as you stared lovingly and longingly at him, your heat just above his now growing arousal. He couldn’t help but groan. He didn’t respond, only lightly grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you down into a soft kiss. His other hand roamed down your chest, groping against your sensitive breasts.
You moaned into his mouth, your clothed cunt now rubbing against his bulge. The swell of your stomach was pressed against his abdomen, only turning Scaramouche on more. Your hands traced his face, delicate fingers running along his jaw and down his neck. His skin shivered under your touch, goosebumps of excitement rising up as he felt your warmth. His tongue invaded your mouth, curling over your gums and teasing against your own hot muscle.
The soft sound of your moans spurred him on, his hands hastily pulling and tugging your clothes off. Your hips rolled against his, dry humping his hardened cock, making you both moan in unison at the sultry action. Scaramouche pulled his lips away, a string of saliva snapping against your lips as his assault moved from your lips to your neck. Love bites and hickeys littered your neck, his hot breath fanning over your flushed skin.
“Fuck, you’re so sexy.” He breathed out, slender fingers coming to rub against your sopping cunt, your hips grinding against his fingers once they made contact with your drenched panties. “Please, Scara, mmm~ please…!” Your begging would suffice for tonight, he pulled against the fabric roughly, making the material snap, loosely hanging off your snug hips now as his fingers began to rub against your dripping folds.
Your moans soon began to Increase in pitch, his fingers rubbing back and forth up your folds before his fingertips began to ghost your fluttering pussy. “Such a good girl.” Scaramouche praised, groaning lowly when he felt your gummy walls grip against his fingers when they finally entered your velvety insides. “Ngh, so fucking tight. You’re sucking my fingers in so good.”
“Scara! S-Scara~!” Your hips rolled to meet his fingers, loving the way they scissored your walls apart, curled in just the right place, and pressed against your sweet spot so deliciously. Your hands fumbled against his shirt, pulling it sloppily over his head while you endured the generous pleasure of his fingers. “Hmm~ love you, love you so much…!”
“That’s fucking right! Yeah, you love me? Love me so much don’t you? Yeah? That why you’re- ngh!- so eager for my cock? Huh?!” You could only nod dumbly, hands shakily tracing down his chest to the toned firmness of his abdomen. His thumb abruptly began to rub stimulating circles against your clit, eliciting a loud moan accompanied by the harsh tremble of your legs. “C-Cumming…! Gonna cum!” Your hands clutched the hem of his sweat pants, tugging weakly as you tried to free his cock of the restricting confines of his boxers.
Scaramouche pulled his fingers out abruptly, groaning lowly at the sight of your arousal sticky and shiny against his slender digits. He rested his other hand on your stomach, rubbing softly while he eased you back against the couch, scanning your face for any discomfort or pain. “Hey.” He called out, grabbing your face lightly to turn your mushy attention back onto him. “Let me know if you’re not okay… got it?”
You nodded in response, whimpering when you felt the flushed tip of his cock graze your glistening folds. His cock teased your fluttery hole, loving the way your pussy was begging to be stuffed, almost trying to suck him in. Pre-cum oozed from the tip, your fluids coming together in sticky bliss. His cock head nudged up against your clit, his hips moving languidly to stimulate your sensitive bundle of nerves.
“Scara… p-please…” Your voice sounded so beautiful and sultry, hips weakly bucking up to receive more exciting friction. Scaramouche laughed softly, his hand gripping the base of his cock before he slowly began to enter you. His hands were clammy as they rested on your hips, his brain beginning to turn to mush the second your warm walls enveloped his throbbing cock. “F-Fuck… you always… f-feel so good.”
You whimpered as his length began to stretch your insides, creating a generously full feeling that made your fingertips tingle. Once he was half way in, he bucked his hips, bottoming out instantly with a deep moan. “S-Shit, you’re sucking me in… I fucking love it, hah~” Scaramouche leaned over you, his stomach pressed against your bulging belly while he thrust shallowly into your drooly cunt.
“A-Ahh, Scara~ more…!” Your husband only growled in response, pushing his hips harder against your own, the deliciously gooey head of his cock rubbing against your sweet spot, evoking the most sinful moans you could muster. It was as if you had gone to heaven. Every movement of his cock sent shivers and electric sparks of pleasure into your spine. The way his veins and mushy head would scrape against your gummy velvet walls, it all felt so good you could barely contain yourself.
Scaramouche was struggling to control himself too. The gorgeous curve of your stomach, swollen with his child. The way you practically oozed motherhood made his carnal instincts spiral. His hands roughly went to grope at your boobs, squeezing the squishy and engorged mounds of flesh until you were jerking against his body, moaning uncontrollably.
“Scara~! W-Wait! Mmm~ S-So sensitive… they’re so sensitive…! Ngh!” Your beautiful cries fell deaf upon his ears as he gently turned you on your side, pulling one of your legs back by your ankle to give his cock deeper access to firmly press against your sweet spot. This way, he could lean down to suck against your breasts while he fucked you. “Ahh?! Scara! Wait! Wait wait wait! Hah!”
His tongue swirled lewdly over the sensitive bud, covering your breast in his saliva. His mouth came to latch on again, this time, giving your tit a light suck accompanied by a squeeze before a milky taste invaded his tongue. Your husband jerked away quickly, his eyes widened in surprise as he watched milk begin to leak from your swollen tits. His cock began to twitch wildly inside your warm walls, making you wince in ecstasy.
“Heh, so messy and pathetic, my gorgeous wife.” Scaramouche degraded, lightened with praise to quell your sensitive emotions. You were a moaning mess beneath him, his dark indigo eyes glued to the way your tits squirted out milk whenever he would squeeze against your breasts roughly. “Fuck… t-that’s so hot.”
You couldn’t respond, your orgasm approaching quickly as your sensitive breasts were groped and squeezed of all the milk that swelled within the engorged flesh. Your pussy fluttered around Scaramouche’s cock, warning him of your fast approaching climax. His husky groans became louder, his own body beginning to tense up. You could lightly feel the way his cock twitched inside, only arousing you further knowing he would be filling you with his sticky cum any moment now.
“Mmm, s-shit I’m cumming. I’m c-cumming baby! Cum -ngh!” Scaramouche could feel his balls tighten, cock beginning to twitch wildly as his warm cum began to spurt inside of you, turning your insides into a gooey mess. Your own climax didn’t help, your walls spasming around his cock, desperate to keep him sheathed inside while you milked him for everything he was worth. “Scara~! Ahh!! S-So full… so full… f-feels… so good.”
He leaned over to your face panting lightly indigo bangs gently tickling your forehead as he gave you a soft kiss as some sort of apology. His eyes cast down to the slippery mess of your milk all over your breasts, abdomen, and the couch. He could feel himself getting hard again just at the sight of your lactating tits. You whimpered at the feeling.
“Y-You’re hard again?” Your body was wiped, and he could tell. With your hormones spiraling and emotions scattered, he knew you couldn’t handle another round tonight. No need to worry, he’ll give you the best morning sex ever. He slowly pulled his length out, whimpering lowly when the warmth of your walls disappeared. “Don’t worry about it. It’s fine. I can tell you’re tired. C’mon, let’s go to bed.”
You smiled softly at his suggestion, nodding slowly. Your husband moved off of you, putting his underwear and sweats back on before he helped you up from the couch. It was then a sudden gush racked your body, and the sound of water splatting against the floor was heard. You both looked down to see a clear fluid covering the floor. Your hand immediately clutched at your stomach, the feeling of being stabbed a thousand times boiling within your insides.
“Scara… I… I think my water just broke…”
It’s a Christmas miracle! Welcome to the world baby Kunikuzushi!
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Merry Christmas! 💜 Stay safe everyone and have a happy holiday 💜💜
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Billy and his songbird || Billy the kid x singer!reader
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Summary: Billy is captivated to say the least when he watches you perform on stage.
Warnings: none that I can think of
Wc: 983
A/n: crap summary but I've always wanted to do a crossover between tbosas and btk lol. this was so fun to make, ALSO nothing you can take from me has to be one of the top three songs on the soundtrack along with pure as the driven snow and the ballad of lucy gray baird. I SAID WHAT I SAID.
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Divider by @pommecita
The sun hung low on the western horizon, casting long shadows across the dusty streets of the small frontier town. The swinging doors of the saloon creaked as a lone figure stepped inside, his silhouette framed by the fading light.
The murmurs and laughter of the patrons hushed for a moment as they turned their attention to the newcomer. The dimly lit room flickered with the warm glow of oil lamps, and the air was thick with the scent of whiskey and cigar smoke.
The stranger, a tall and lean figure wearing a wide-brimmed hat pulled low over his eyes, scanned the room before his gaze settled on you. A slow grin crept across his face as recognition sparked in his eyes.
You were unaware of Billy’s gaze with your back turned to the crowd as you tuned your guitar ready for your performance for the night.
Billy looked around, his eyes scanning the room until they locked onto a familiar face: Jesse Evans. The two had esse crossed paths many times before, sometimes as allies and sometimes as adversaries, but tonight, it seemed like old times.
“Billy!” Jesse called out, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Well, I’ll be damned. Thought you were avoiding us. Billy smirked and tipped his hat as he approached Jesse and the others at a table near the corner that had a good view of the stage. “Just needed a bit of a break, Jesse. Couldn’t resist the allure of Sante Fe and the atmosphere ‘round here.”
Jesse slaps Billy’s back, “Well, you came on a good day, kid. Y/n’s singing tonight.“ He cocks his head to you on the stage as Billy’s eyes roam your figure. “Jesse leaned in toward Billy. “You know, we used to get mighty excited whenever we heard she was performing. She’s got a voice that can make even the toughest outlaw shed a tear.”
Billy raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. “Is that right? Well, I reckon I’ll have to hear it for myself.”
Jesse smirks at his friend as Billy catches on to his smirk with a roll of his eyes. “How’s everyone’s night goin’?” You speak in the mic as the saloon erupts in loudness, a few cheers, whistles and the sound of hands hitting tables, showcasing their feelings.
You chuckle, “Good, good, that’s what I like to hear,” a mischievous glint flashed across Billy’s eyes as he hears Jesse chuckles beside him, a playful nudge to his stomach.
“Oh! Is that bottle there for me?” Your eyes widen the slightest as you see one of the locals walk over to you with a flask in hand. “Of course, doll,” Cal grins up at you as the crowd loudens. “Oh, come on, ya’ll. You know I gave up drinking when I was 12,” You playfully wink.
The crowd erupted in laughter and amusement at your customary banter. Billy found himself captivated by your charm. “It’s to clear my piles, ya’ll. To clear my pipes” You assure them jokingly, throwing the flask back to the crowd with a grin.
You turn your head to give a sign to your band to start the song you prepared. The crowd hushed, waiting for the music to start, “You can’t take my past,” your bandmates start off, “you can’t take my history,” the crowd was silent in awe as they listen to the melodic voices that filled the space.
“You could take my pa,” “but his name’s a mystery.” You take a step forward to the mic, “Nothin’ you can take from me was ever worth keeping” your eyes flutter shut as you hear a few whoops from the crowd.
“Oh, nothing you can take,” your eyes open and Billy swore he saw them sparkle, “was ever worth keeping,” the corner of your mouth tips up to form a small smirk as the upbeat song comes to life causing an eruption of cheers from the patrons.
You wore a huge smile on your face as your fingers skilfully strum your guitar. “C’mon!” You encourage the already hyped up crowd full of cowboys and cowgirls; your boot tapping on the wooden stage as they clap along, already boosting your adrenaline.
“Can’t take my charm. Can’t take my humour. Can’t take my wealth, cause it’s just a rumour.” The way you effortlessly and gracefully twirled around the stage, your voice and stage presence mesmerising and commanding everyone’s attention—Billy was truly and utterly enchanted—you, the enchanter.
“Nothing you can take was ever worth keeping. No, nothing you can take was ever worth keeping,” Billy couldn’t help but feel his head lightly bopping to the beat, his eyes looking around to see everyone else just as captivated by your presence.
You were having the time of your life, like always whenever you sang, your heart pumping with adrenaline, “Thinkin’ your so fine. Thinkin’ you could have mine.”
Billy couldn’t help but be enchanted by your performance. He leaned against the wall, a half-smile playing on his lips as he watched you sing. Jesse and his gang, too, were caught up in the infectious energy of the moment. It seemed like everyone in the saloon, regardless of their affiliations, was having a great time.
“Thinkin’ you’re in control. Thinkin’ you’ll change me, maybe rearrange me, think again if that’s your goal.” Your eyes roam around the practically full saloon before you lock eyes with none other than Billy the Kid in the corner.
You saw him a few hours prior from a distance, but that was it. Now, his blue irises were staring straight at you, his lips lightly upturned as his finger taps along to the beat of the music, your fingers still dancing over your guitar strings, not missing a beat.
You both stared at each for what seemed liked hours but was merely a few seconds; and, for those few seconds, something unspoken passed between you.
A playful smile made it to your lips before you tore your eyes away from Billy’s. “Can’t take my sass. Can’t take my talkin’,” Billy’s watches your figure as you move across the stage, leaning forward to the crowd, “you can kiss my ass, then keep on walkin’,”
An amused expression flashed over Billy’s face, “She’s good isn’t she, Billy?” Jesse shouts over the loud music as Billy chuckles, nodding his head. “She’s somethin’ alright. A songbird.” Jesse snorts at him, “a songbird, huh?” he echoes as Billy’s eyes fall back onto the stage that you controlled.
“Nothin’ you can take from me is worth dirt.” Your eyes lock with one another, “take it ‘cause I’d give it free, it won’t hurt.” Your eyebrow lightly cocks at his direction as Billy’s lips parted. It seemed as if it was only the two of you in the saloon, everyone fading in the background.
The crowd falls into a hush, sensing the end of the song, “Nothin’ you can take was ever worth keepin’. No, nothin’ you can take was ever worth keepin’.” The upbeat tempo once again affiliated the saloon as the pleasantly surprised patrons clapped, danced, and tapped along to the catchy beat of the song.
When the song reached its crescendo, you finished with a flourish, your fingers dancing over the guitar strings. Everyone in the saloon cheered and whistled, and you couldn’t help but bow, acknowledging the appreciation.
“Ya’ll have a good night, thank you!” You exclaim into the mic before turning around and packing up your equipment. “We’re havin’ a drink, join us?” Annie, your bandmate comes up to you, placing her hand on your shoulder.
You smile up at her, “Thanks, Annie. I’ll come join you guys later.” As you stand back up, you lock eyes with Jesse Evans. You were well acquainted with the man, the two of you hanging out whenever you were free. He was sat a table with Billy, his gang the next table over.
He beckoned you with a smile as you reciprocate it, signalling to him that you’d be there in a sec. “Hey, sweetheart,” Cal drawled, obviously drunk as he had a cigarette in between his lips.
“Hey there, Cal. Enjoying yourself?” You politely smile at him as her offers to hold your hand as you descend the stage stairs—although you were quite capable of walking down yourself.
“Wanna join me for a drink, eh?” “Uh-“ “-what do ya say?” Your eyes lock with Billy’s who was staring you down. “Thank you for the offer, Cal. But I’m gonna have to decline,” You quickly say as your feet quickly moved away, leaving him there.
“Popular, ain’t ya?” Jesse chuckles, moving the seat back beside him for you. “Mind sharin’ a drink with us?” He pats the seat as your eyes flicker between him and Billy. You returned the smile, taking a seat between Billy and Jesse “I’m a busy girl but I’ll make time for ya. Always a pleasure to share good company,” you playfully wink at Jesse as you hear Billy softly chuckle.
“Lovely to finally meet you, Mr. Bonney,” You extend your hand out gracefully as he looks down at it before looking back at you with a smile. “Please, the pleasure is all mine.”
The conversation flowed as freely as the whiskey, and soon, the saloon was filled with the sounds of camaraderie. You found yourself in the middle of it all, laughing at Jesse's stories, clinking glasses with the gang, and sharing glances with Billy that spoke volumes.
"It was Billy's first time here watching your perform y'know," Jesse pipes up, his glass of whisky close to his lips before he throws his head back as you look at Billy who was already looking at you. "What'd you think 'bout my performance Billy?"
Billy pretends to ponder, rubbing his jaw as you giggle. "What can I say, darlin'? You were great out there. I couldn't keep my eyes off of you," he admits as you grin at his bluntness.
As the evening drew to a close, Jesse stood and stretched. "Well, Billy, it's been a pleasure catchin' up with you. But we've got a long ride ahead of us tomorrow."
Billy nodded, his gaze lingering on you. "I reckon it's time for me to hit the trail as well. But before I go, there's somethin' I've been meanin' to ask." You looked at him, curiosity in your eyes. "Ask away."
Billy hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Would you mind if I walked you home? It's not every day a man gets to meet a singer as talented as you." You smiled, touched by the slightly expected request, you nodded with a gracious smile. "I'd be delighted, Billy."
As you and Billy stepped out into the cool night air, the distant sounds of the bustling saloon faded, leaving only the soft murmur of the wind and the occasional creak of a swinging sign. The moon cast a gentle glow on the empty streets as the two of you walked side by side.
"Quite a night, wouldn't you say?" Billy remarked, his tone a mix of charm and genuine admiration. You hummed. "Never thought I'd find myself walking home with an infamous outlaw." You smirked as Billy reciprocated it, "Life's full of surprises, darlin'," he tips his hat.
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srvbryn · 2 months
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Luke Castellan. Moonlight
Luke Castellan X Hades!Daughter!Reader
FLUFF <333
Summary: "we're running in the moonlight, can you show me the way again?" In which Luke fucking Castellan somehow managed to make you fall in love even more with him (ts doesn't make sense btw 😭)
A/n: GOSHH I love him sm<33 can we ignore whatever he did in the books aaaaa & CHARLIE BUSHNELL is perfect 100% I'm so desperate if you look like Charlie Bushnell hmu 🥹🥹
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The moon hung low in the night sky, casting a silver glow over the beach as Luke Castellan slipped away from Hermes Cabin.
His mischievous grin was illuminated by the moonlight, and he sought the company of a specific person - (Name), Hades forbidden daughter.
As he approached (Name)'s cabin, the shadows seemed to illuminated around him, concealing his movements.
Knocking softly, he waited for (Name) to open the door, her demeanour reserved and cool, a trait inherited from her godly lineage.
"Hey there, (Name)," Luke greeted, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes. "Mind taking a stroll with me? The beach is calling."
(Name) hesitated, her shy nature evident, but curiosity sparkled in her eyes. "Sure, Castellan. Just for a little while."
Avoiding watchful eyes, until they reached the shoreline.
The sound of waves crashing against the shore filled the air as they found a secluded spot, away from prying eyes.
Luke interrupted the silence. "Wonderful night, isn't it? The moonlight reflects off the water like diamonds."
(Name) nodded, "It's... nice."
As they walked along the shore, "There's something mysterious about you."
A faint blush tinged (Name)'s cheeks. "Being Hades daughter tends to make people wary."
Luke chuckled. "Well, they don't know what they're missing. I find it intriguing."
(Name) shot him a quizzical look. "You do?"
"Absolutely. You've got this aura, but I think there's more to you than meets the eye."
They continued walking in companionable silence until Luke abruptly paused, his gaze fixed on the stars. "Hey, (Name), have you ever wished upon a star?"
(Name) shook her head. "Not really. Why?"
"I heard that wishes made under moonlit skies are more likely to come true," he replied, a playful glint in his eyes.
(Name) smirked slightly, a rare expression for her. "I doubt that."
"Care to test it out?" Luke grinned, taking (Name)'s hand gently. "Close your eyes and make a wish."
As (Name) closed her eyes, a genuine smile played on Luke's lips. "I wish for (Name) to open up, to let people see the warmth hidden beneath that exterior."
When (Name) opened her eyes, Luke's gaze softened. "Well, did it work?"
(Name) blushed, avoiding eye contact. "Maybe a little."
They resumed their walk, the atmosphere lighter. As the night wore on, they found themselves sitting on the sand, staring at the moonlit waves.
Luke turned to (Name), his expression earnest. "You know, (Name), I'm glad I sneaked out tonight."
(Name)'s cheeks flushed again, but this time, it was accompanied by a genuine smile. "Thank you, Luke. I enjoyed tonight."
Luke grinned, his mischief returning. "Well, maybe we should sneak out more often."
The air between Luke and (Name) crackled with an unspoken tension as they sat by the beach.
Luke turned to (Name), his eyes searching hers. "You know, sometimes words aren't necessary."
(Name) met his gaze, a hint of uncertainty in her eyes. "What do you mean?"
Without answering, Luke closed the distance, his lips brushing against hers in a soft, lingering kiss. The world seemed to pause for that stolen moment.
As they pulled away, (Name) looked at him, her cheeks flushed. "Luke..."
He grinned, the spark returning to his eyes. "Some things are better felt than said."
A small smile played on (Name)'s lips. "I never expected this."
"Life's full of surprises," Luke replied, his tone sincere. "And this? This was a pleasant one."
They sat in a comfortable silence, the light casting a gentle glow over their intertwined fingers. Luke couldn't help but break the quiet. "Who would've thought the daughter of Hades could be so enchanting?"
(Name) rolled her eyes but couldn't hide the smile tugging at her lips. "Flattery won't get you far, Castellan."
He chuckled. "Maybe not, but it's worth a shot."
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mockerycrow · 4 months
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super big congratulations on 4k!! you deserve it <3
i was wondering if you could write a gn! reader x price with the prompt "Hey, it's okay, I got you. You're alright, you're okay." it doesn't matter if it's platonic or romantic; whatever feels best for you!!
Thank you so much and congratulations!
YOU’RE ALIVE (Price x GN!Reader) — 4K CELEBRATION
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[WARNINGS; Car accident, implied situationship w/ Price, moderate injuries, flashbacks, near panic attack, open ending.]
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YOU DON’T REMEMBER the events that lead up to you in a hospital bed, a cast fitted around your arm, a brace on your knee, a bandage around your skull, and only God knows how many stitches and bandages in random assortments. You can’t forget the numeral wires and tubes attached to you, too. Oh, and the ear-bleeding beeping. John sits next to you in a chair—he’s your… friend, of sorts. You aren’t really sure what to call what you two have going on.
You look at him, slumped in the visitors chair he’s pulled up beside your bed, his arms crossed and his legs spread; his neck is bent at an awkward angle and you know it’s going to ache whenever he awakens. John looks quite tired—he’s looked tired and stressed the entire time he’s been in the hospital room with you. Stressing over you, like a worried hu—…. you shouldn’t think about that. Suddenly the ceiling looks far more appealing to stare at, rather than the beautiful gentleman who is willingly staying at your bedside, despite your exhausted attempts to have him get some proper rest.
You glance over at him—envious of how he’s able to sleep right now. Hm. Honestly, you know John would be awake with you if he had the energy. The only reason why you’re awake is your stitches itch, and the only reason why he’s asleep is because you did not wake up for four days after you passed out at the scene of a car accident you were apparently in; an accident you don’t remember too well. You barely even remember what you had for breakfast that morning; cereal of some kind, maybe? Eggs? You don’t know.
“You were on the way to work, love.” You remember John telling you. You remember the tense expression, the firmness of his eyebrows. The frown of his lip, the way he amusingly resembled a quokka in the moment. You were also apparently on the phone with John at the same time, so whatever happened, he heard all of it. The details from your own memory are fuzzy—your doctors concluded your amnesia is temporary, so they gave you the choice of remembering it yourself or having them tell you. You opted in for the first option.
It was coming back to you in bits and pieces. Small moments where you feel the hairs on the back of your neck standing up, you think you hear glass shattering in the distance; your heart begins to race at different moments. You aren’t sure what to make of it—until now.
“I’m not excited for this meeting.” You whined, your eyes were glued to the road. Your phone is bluetooth connected to your car’s system so you can talk with John and have both of your hands on the wheel. “I’m sure it’ll be fine, honey. Surely it’s just about budgets like last month.” John hums through the speakers of your car. You sigh, turning on your windshield wipers as it’s pouring out, obscuring your vision a bit.
“It’s raining pretty hard, how do the roads look?” He asks, a bit of rustling coming from John’s end. He’s probably reading a book or looking out from the curtains. “I’m driving slower than normal, visibility isn’t the greatest..” You admit, letting out a breath, slowing the car down once again. “..I was sliding a bit, thinking it’s time I get some new wheels.” John hums in agreement. “Definitely. Please be safe, love.” You chuckled glancing around the road, furrowing your eyebrows when the double yellow line seems to fade. “I’m trying my best, Jo—“
You’re suddenly being jostled around violently after a big impact from your front, your seatbelt digging into your skin as something launches your car off to the side. “SHIT—“ You scream, attempting to stop the car, but the rain causes you to slide across the road. Something hits you from the back and you feel you physically feel yourself lift in your seat—and then you’re fading in and out. You wake up with wetness against your face, pain in your ribs, your arm, your skull—
You let out a choked sob as there’s ringing in your ears and your eyes refuse to focus—but you can tell you’re upside down. You see a pair of legs sprinting towards you through your broken side window, and you aren’t really register what’s happening. You blink and the person is try to pry the door open frantically. You still don’t hear them; it’s almost like a silent movie.
The door gives, the flipped car jostling from the force used to pry it open. You blink and fuck—It’s John. His eyes are wide and his jaw is tense, shaky hands. He’s grabbing the sides of your head, forcing you to keep your head still—his lips are moving but you can’t hear him. You sob and you try to reach up to touch him, and he lets you. Your eyes look at your own hand as it’s caked in your own blood, causing you to inhale shakily. This isn’t happening. The pain starts sitting you harder, a pulsing in the side of your head.
“Hey—“ John’s voice suddenly cuts through and you blink, and you’re back in the hospital room. You’re breathing hard and fast, causing your chest to ache more than it already does. His hands are cupping your cheeks like he was in the flipped car, and you let out a panicked sob; your machines make loud beeping noises in retaliation. “Hey, it’s okay, I got you. You’re alright, you’re okay..” John quickly murmurs, his thumbs gently wiping your tears away. “Focus on my voice, okay? You’re alright. You’re in the hospital, love.”
You sniffle and nod, shakily inhaling once again as you try to calm your panicked lungs and struggling heart, your good hand coming up and gently grasping his wrist. “I-I was flipped over—“ You choke out, which John quickly meets with soft shushing and a kiss between your eyebrows. “I know, honey. I know. I got you, you’re safe now.” You nod, choking out another whimper as you lean into his touch—because John’s right. He has you; you’re safe, he’s the one who got to you first. You’re sure you’ll want to ask him how he found you so fast later, but all you want to do right now and feel him and hear him. Because you’re alive.
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